Sink It In
by the.israel.project107
Summary: A year after returning from overseas, Axel moves cross-country with Demyx to stay with his ex, Roxas. Any hovering chance that they might get back together, however, is dismissed with the appearance of a certain alluring redhead on the scene... AkuNo
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **In true Xigbar fashion: As if!

**A/N: **HI. AGAIN. This story has a hell of a convoluted birth. I did a song-meme on dA the other week, and one drabble was for the song 'Bus-Stop Boxer' by the Eels. I want to turn it into a full-length story someday. _This _is _that _eventual story's sequel :D It is dedicated to, and because of, Nijuuni over on dA, the mother and shipper of ARR (Axel/Reno/Roxas)(LOL, she's the threesome mothership), whose recent pic/drabble submission of Axel and Reno just grabbed my brain and shook it sharply. The resultant rattling that took place inspired me to ask her permission to write this, go and do my customary hysterical flail and scream that occurs each time I throw another fic onto the pile to the oft-mentioned and weary Decorinne (who got a shit of a shock and thought I was dying when she first saw the overwhelming level of all-caps and bold), and then, once permission was granted (THANKYOUSOMUCH!) I went and started it :D

The notes are fun, so far. Because they also pertain to its original (I maintain that this is the _sequel), _it's like I'm doing notes for two stories at once XD

Hope you guys like it! I've stuck the link to Nijuuni's pic/drabble on my profile, so if there's anyone out there that hasn't seen it, for the love of God, do so!

--

CHAPTER ONE

There was nothing quite like riding a train at dawn. The world lightened slowly, shade by shade, shadow by shadow, the impenetrable darkness of night pulled apart by the silver lining the horizon, turning to gold and spreading up. Everything that had been obscured was now all of a sudden visible, the rise of the hills, the arms of the trees twisting this way and that, a sense of coldness overlaying it all. Axel felt like he'd turn to ice just looking at it, even knowing it was the precursor to another warm day.

Sure enough, inevitable streaks of pink appeared in amongst the pale blue and white that blossomed gradually from one end of the sky to the other, the fiery tip of the sun at last appearing, after an uncomfortable, endless-seeming night. Axel always had trouble sleeping during transportation, whether it was car, bus, train or plane. It boggled his mind that Demyx, sitting across from him, could sprawl so awkwardly over his collection of bags, the neck of his sitar case digging hard into his ribs, and snore obliviously. The world was permanently vibrating, constantly rattling, the small nearby cubicle bathroom a high source of traffic for the entire carriage. You'd think they'd all been drugged with a fucking diuretic or something, judging by the amount of times he'd heard footsteps stumping past down the narrow corridor, the tiny overhead lights flickering. Either that, or it was a single person with major kidney problems.

Axel was exhausted; he'd been awake for thirty-seven hours now, snatching only brief moments of groggy dozing when it simply grew too much for him, but he always snapped back to awareness feeling as drained as ever. Resentment had climbed like one building block on top of another towards the easily slumbering blond on the other long seat, crammed with half their joint belongings – but with the arrival of day, it all just kind of faded away. His relief was strong; this was the last day of it. They'd been travelling almost non-stop, through one means and another, for more than three days, and finally, the God-awful journey was coming to a close. For someone who hated to travel, Axel sure as hell managed to do a lot of it, much to his distaste. It was going to be nice to just stop, catch his breath, put his feet up, and finally pass out.

Across from him, Demyx shifted, making some gross noises as his mouth opened and closed a few times, before finding a slightly new position and falling straight back into peace, one arm jammed between him and the wall, arched over his face, fingers dangling an inch from his lips. Bemused, Axel shook his head silently at the display. From the way Dem's leg was twisted, he was going to cut off the blood supply. How many times had the redhead watched this happen?

He and Demyx had been living together for a year now, sharing a duplex in their hometown, before making the decision to cut and run after Dem's bastard of a dad started hassling them. It wasn't like anything was really tying them to the place, after all – Axel himself had only just returned to country anyway after five years away, before moving into the spare room at the blond's place, his childhood friend. And ever since they were kids, Demyx had done this, had twisted himself like a pretzel through every sleepover, every camp, every long-distance trip, much to the redhead's insomniac disgust. He was almost tempted to reach out a toe and jab the guy, startle him awake just for the hell of it… but then, that would just be Axel being a bitch. Not that he wasn't half the time anyway, but he still had his limits, not to mention his more benevolent moments, and Dem _was _doing this for him, pretty much. There was no guarantee he'd have ever left their old place if Axel hadn't made the decision for them, and nothing was forcing him to stick with the redhead – he just – he _did. _He just did, because they were friends, because they had a long and convoluted history behind them as teenage tearaways and fellow fags under the eyes of a critical local community and the aforementioned pig-fucker that was Dem's dad. Things like that _meant_ something to Demyx, sentimental weirdo that he was.

Thus, Axel settled himself in for the show that would develop all on its own, and let him sleep a little longer. The train snaked across the countryside, effortlessly eating up mile after mile, the sun going from creeping around the horizon to launching itself into the air, beating down on the linked carriages and green hills. Its light flooded the compartment the two males had booked exclusively at a slightly higher price in order to carry on what they hadn't been allowed to put into the luggage carriage. It was no small feat picking up your entire life and depositing it elsewhere, after all; there was a lot of shit to carry along. Axel slid a little lower in his seat, long legs stretching out, warmed by the hot rays, watching the last vestiges of night dissipate completely, day taking precedence.

It was the clatter of the meal cart being pushed up and down the corridor that stirred Demyx at long last, the blond yawning like a cat, opening his eyes and blinking with sleepy incomprehension at his surroundings. His head swivelled slightly, a small, rough cough worked from his dry throat, before rasping, "…Hey."

The redhead smirked lazily, arms folding over his stomach, an eyebrow lifting. "Morning, Dem. Looking comfortable there."

The blond craned his neck to look down at himself, half-crushed under the massive hiker's backpack he'd been hauling around, still just about being gored by the sitar case, left ankle curled around under the opposite thigh. Features forming a cute, confused pout, Demyx started trying to shove everything off with sleep-weak arms, Axel making no move to help, just sitting there with a stupid grin on his face.

At last, he suggested, "Why don't you just get up? It'll all fall off you, then."

Nodding at this, rubbing his face hard, looking dazed with the shock of being conscious, Demyx, pulled himself up a little, wormed out from under the obstructions, swung his feet down to the floor. He grunted, "Huh. I can't feel my leg."

Despite this, like clockwork, Demyx stood, took one step, and promptly crumple-thumped straight to the ground. Reaching over easily to steady the sitar as it threatened to topple the opposite way, Axel cheerfully asked, "You doing okay down there, buddy?"

There was a long pause, before Demyx mumbled into the carpet, "I have pins and needles." As an afterthought, he added, "You knew that was going to happen." Another moment passed. "The ground is vibrating."

"Indeed it is." Axel settled back again, leaning the instrument against the wall, a satisfied expression in place. Somehow, watching Demyx crash to the floor each and every morning without fail had become one of life's highlights. It was heartening to know that, even in the middle of a cross-country venture, there was one routine that couldn't be broken.

Demyx clawed his way back up, stamping his foot agitatedly, performing a small, agonised dance in the middle of the compartment, shooting the redhead dirty looks every time he came into view, before suddenly catching a glimpse of the view through the broad window. Jaw dropping momentarily, he gaped, then demanded, "Where the hell are we? When did the world become hills, for Christ's sake?"

"About six hours ago," Axel replied, with a small, weary smile. Stretching his legs out, placing one foot on the opposite seat and crossing the other ankle over it, he tucked his hands behind his head and turned to see what Demyx saw. "We switch trains in Twilight Town," he recited, "and that takes us two hours down the line… to Radiant Garden." His features softened slightly. "Roxas said his apartment is only ten minutes from the station. Once we're there… we're done."

Still jiggling the life back into his left leg, Demyx's expression took on a pensive cast. "You think everything's going to be cool between you guys?"

Axel shrugged. "No reason it shouldn't be. We parted on decent terms."

Demyx nodded thoughtfully at this. "Well, as long as everything's okay." He paused in his movements, eyed the redhead off. "Do you think you guys'll, you know…" He rocked onto his toes.

Eyebrows lifting, Axel finished, "…Get together again?" He thought for a moment, considered the possibility, pinkie rising up to get its nail chewed a little. He shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe? No?" He shook his head. "I can't say, Dem. It's been, what, three years since we were going out? And it's not like we've been pen-pals since then. We just sort of… kept tabs on each other." He took his finger in to the first knuckle, bit down meditatively. "I can't see it happening. Everything was pretty final at the time. But, like I said, I don't know for sure. I guess… we'll just have to wait and see."

--

"You know what sucks, Rude?"

There was silence for a while, before a deep sigh sounded out, followed by, "What sucks, Reno?"

"Little fucking bags of popcorn. I do everything the instructions tell me, and what happens? The fuckers _burn. _Every single time!" Disgusted, the redhead threw his paper bag of charred microwave popcorn into the trash, glowering down at it. "What a waste of money. And now the place smells like nothing but popcorn, of course – I'm going to be wanting it all day!"

With infinite patience, Rude twisted his head, peered over his dark glasses at his partner, and said, "Cloud's coming."

Reno brightened, exclaiming, "Well, it's about time!" He went to the window of the small office he and Rude shared at the gate of ShinRa Electric, sliding it open and hanging the top half of his body out. Ponytail swinging over his shoulder, he grabbed hold of the hulking boom blocking entrance to the car-park for balance, and waited as the black bike grew nearer, the noise of its engine soaring clearly through the air at the empty edge of the wastelands. Rude pushed his chair back, trying to get away from Reno's ass, uncomfortably close to his face. Sure, they were partners – but there were some things a man just shouldn't have to endure from a best friend.

The snarl turned to a rumble as bike and rider coasted to a stop outside the window, a leg lowering, boot pressing to the tarmac entrance of the power company. The engine cut out, leaving swirling silence.

"Y'know, Cloud," Reno warned in a sing-song, "you're supposed to wear a helmet when you ride that Class-A type vehicle. Much more of this fancy-free shit, and you'll find your ass with a ti-cket!"

The blond rolled his eyes behind dark shades. "Y'know, Reno," he responded in a sarcastic echo of the other's tone, "you're not a real cop, you're a security guard for a corrupt power company, so keep your mouth shut."

Scowling, Reno slithered back down onto his feet into the office. "Shut up and give me my lunch, _delivery boy."_

"That's _courier, _Reno. I haven't given you your food yet, it's not too late for me to accidentally drop it and step on it." Cloud twisted and unzipped a large, insulated black bag on the back of the bike, pulling out a smaller paper bag from within. As Reno reached for it, however, Cloud yanked it back a little, demanding, _"Who _am I?"

The redhead lowered himself to his elbows, eyes hooded, licked his lips slowly, plucking at his collar, breathing, _"You're _my daddy."

Behind him, Rude muttered, "Oh, Lord, my ears."

Cloud jerked the bag further out of reach, making Reno scowl, straightening. "Fine! You're _courier Cloud, _out to save the world from monsters and ShinRa and Sephiroth the almighty. Okay?! Gimme the goddamn food!" With just a slight hesitation, a hint of a smirk, the blue-eyed blond handed over the prize. Reno snatched, opened it swiftly to check that everything was in place, then lifted his chin, stuck out his tongue, and said, "Hah! I lied. You're a delivery boy whose boyfriend has hair like a girl's, and you couldn't beat up my grandmother, pretty boy!"

"Oh? You think so, do you?" Cloud's weight went more heavily onto his left foot, looking for all the world like he was about to swing himself off the bike and show Reno who was boss. The redhead threw the paper bag at Rude, shouted, _"Protect the food!" _before turning back and jamming his hands on either side of the window. "No entry, delivery boy, this office is _official _ShinRa security property, you step a hair in here and I get the legal right to kick you out _on your ass! _Don't you dare fucking try and touch my lunch!"

Cloud stared for a moment, then shuddered slightly. "That sounds… frightening, when taken out of context. Okay, Reno. I won't touch your… _lunch." _As the redhead flipped him off, he added, "I'll just kick your ass at pool tonight after work – how about it?"

Reno grinned, leaning against the side of the window. "That's your answer to my 'you couldn't beat my grandma' taunt?"

"Rude, you too," Cloud called, zipping up the bag again, making sure it was secure on the bike. "If you guys come towards closing time, my brother's gonna close the doors to the public and let us have the run of the place for a while."

The man's deep voice replied, from its resigned place behind Reno's ass, "We'll be there, Cloud."

"Like a married fucking couple," Reno confirmed. Cloud turned the bike back on, crept it forward to the boom, the redhead hitting the button to make it rise. "See you on your way out!" The blond waved carelessly, revved the bike, peeled away from the guard's station and into ShinRa property, where other hungry workers were waiting for their weekly Friday ShinRa-paid meal. Reno lowered the gate, turned to Rude. "Food me," he commanded, collapsing into his chair, tearing apart the package the man tossed over and attacking his lunch with all the voracity of a man denied popcorn in a popcorn-scented environment. Watching Rude carefully pop the lid off of a small tub of soup, he slowed a little, chewed thoughtfully, twisting his chair slowly from side to side with a toe. "It's been a while since Cloud's little brother let us take over."

"Business is going well," Rude commented, taking a cautious sip of the broth. "Sounds like things have been busy there lately."

Reno shook his head. "I tell ya, Rude, they are one weird-ass family. One's a delivery boy, one's a business tycoon at twenty-fucking-three years old, their parents are loaded and they don't touch a dime!"

"I wouldn't," the dark-skinned man admitted. "I mean, it's that Ansem guy, right? The scientist?" He shook his head. "From what I've picked up, there's nothing you get from that guy that doesn't have strings attached – and that includes his sons." He grunted slightly. "Better to be self-made than to owe someone like that."

Reno snorted, flipped a hand dismissively. "Well, yeah, but if _I _was Cloud – "

"If you were Cloud," Rude interrupted dryly, "you'd be the main whore of Junon."

Reno froze, lips parting, eyes widening. He sucked in his cheeks, knees knocking together, brows drawing low. "Oh." The look he gave Rude was… distant. He suddenly seemed uninterested in food, a fact which was enough to draw the other man's attention over enough to notice that things had gone awry.

"…What?"

Reno frowned. "I see what you're saying."

Rude arched a brow. "Huh?"

"I see where you're going with that statement," the redhead insisted softly, eyes lowering. Rude blinked behind his shades, mind grinding to a halt. A grain of concern flickered to life inside him, wondering if, somehow, he'd just crossed a line he hadn't known existed. Reno sighed. "You… you think…" His gaze lifted, met Rude's, blinking several times. "You think…" Rude held his breath as Reno's face lowered. A tremor passed through the redhead.

Lips hardly moving, the man ventured, with a tinge of worry, "…Reno…?"

Reno sucked in a hard breath, head popping up, and crowed, _"You think Cloud's cute enough to be a whooore!" _He started laughing, tears springing to his eyes. "You – you – if only he had – my kind of charm…! He could…!" He fell off his chair, clutching his stomach, head tilted back as he cackled helplessly. Rude watched impassively for a moment, before turning back to his soup. After a minute, Reno subsided into wild, hiccupping giggles, crawled around a little, wiping his face with the heels of his palms. "Oh, man," he gasped. "Oh, my God. If Cloud had my sex appeal, he'd be the main whore of _Junon!" _He continued to gurgle to himself for a while, as his co-worker steadily finished his lunch. At last, Reno dragged himself back into his chair, shaky and weak, still letting out the occasional feeble chuckle. He took a few deep breaths, smoothing his uniform, covered his face for a moment and gathered composure. "The next time I see Cloud," he said, muffled behind his hands, "I'm gonna laugh my fucking ass off."

"Didn't you already?" Rude pointed out dryly. "You think your ass can handle it twice in one day?"

Reno parted his hands, leered, "Oh, Rude. You really don't think enough about what you say around me."

The bald man thought this over, nodded, muttered, "Even after all this time…" He resealed his empty soup container, adding contemplatively, "His confusion is going to be fun to watch."

When, fifteen minutes later, the sound of the bike came growling back into range, Rude and Reno exchanged quick looks, and the redhead, right on cue, squeezed his eyes shut and started giggling.

--

Axel and Demyx stared up at Roxas' apartment building with something bordering on stunned awe. "Ho-lee _shit," _the blond exclaimed, twice his regular size with bags hanging from every available appendage. Axel, in a similarly lumpy state beside him, could only gape. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Demyx's brows drew together. "We didn't miss a block or street or, y'know, city?"

Axel stirred himself enough to lift the paper holding the scrawled directions he'd made after the last quick call to Roxas the previous week, green eyes passing over them all again, double-checking the number, before, with hesitation, giving a nod. "This is the place." Looking up at it again, he added, not reassuringly, "I _think."_ Dem gazed at him helplessly, then over at the building.

"…Maybe we should ask someone," he suggested uncertainly. Axel nodded, shuffled up to the entrance, Demyx in tow, the reflective glass of the tinted door showing them as rippled, bedraggled creatures, before opening automatically, the redhead startled to find a doorman regarding them pleasantly, welcoming them in. "Good afternoon, sirs. How can I help you?"

They passed through into the building's elegantly simple foyer, Demyx looking positively nervous, gaze darting around the high ceilings, the hushed, shining interior. Axel lifted his page of directions again, offering them over, asking, "I wonder if you could tell me if we're in the right place? My friend gave us some instructions on how to find his place, but…"

The man took the sheet, eyes flicking over the writing only perfunctorily, before smiling and nodding. "Yes, sir, this is the correct place. Roxas has already told me you're coming, he said to let you go right up."

Demyx and Axel both stared some more. "So – he lives here?" the redhead attempted to confirm. The doorman agreed, and gave them the floor number.

"I'd offer to help you with your bags, sirs, but I'm required to stay by the door…" he apologised, eyeing off their load. Demyx blinked, waved the hand holding his sitar.

"No, it's – it's cool, we've carried them this far, we can manage an elevator ride."

Inclining his head, the man stepped back into position beside the gleaming bar-handle on the glass door. "In that case, I wish you both a good afternoon, Roxas is upstairs waiting for you."

The blond and redhead dithered for a moment, before Axel took charge, headed over towards the elevator, Demyx bumping the call button with the neck of the sitar case. The doors opened instantly, smooth and silent, Axel pressing the dull number six, lighting it up, doors closing again, the ascent beginning. Demyx fidgeted at his side. "Am I the only one afraid to breathe wrong in case I break something?" he wondered. Axel nodded shortly, eyes stuck on the climbing gauge marking their journey up the building.

"Yep."

With a cheerful _ding, _the ride stopped abruptly, doors parting to allow them through onto the landing. They checked their bearings, headed left. It was so quiet, not a sound coming from any of the apartments they passed, Demyx's voice the only disruption as he murmured the number of each until they reached the one written down on Axel's paper. They paused, exchanged looks, Axel taking a breath, butterflies suddenly fluttering and squirming through his gut. Three years was a long time between visits. He didn't mind being somewhere so foreign to his budget, wasn't intimidated by the hush – wasn't intimidated by much in general, unlike poor twitching Demyx next to him – but this… this was big. Nervousness exploded from its cramped, suppressed location in the fist-sized space within his chest, where'd he'd been denying its existence for the week since he'd spoken to Roxas on the phone.

Demyx shot him a glance. "You ready?"

Axel lifted his fist, knuckles rapping against the wood, moments before noticing the small doorbell beside the frame. Roxas, though, had been waiting, it seemed. After barely a pause, there was a clattering of bolts from within, before the white door was pulled open by a slightly breathless diminutive blond in ripped jeans and a sweater. "Axel. Hi."

Axel lifted a hand, gave a small wave. "…Hey, Roxas. It's been a while, huh?" He was pulled into an awkward, surprising hug. It was over before he could properly respond, Roxas moving on to hold his hand out to Demyx.

"Demyx, right? I've heard a lot about you. Or, well, I used to." He hovered indecisively upon realising that Demyx didn't have a free hand to shake, ended up taking hold of the sitar and doing it with that instead.

"Hey, same here," the musician replied, with anxious cheer. "Same with the 'used to' part, too." He laughed uncertainly, the noise echoed by Roxas, who hesitated, then gestured, stepping back.

"Well – come on in, both of you, this is your home for the next few weeks, right? Make yourselves, you know, comfortable and all." They entered the immaculately clean apartment, sparsely furnished in true Roxas fashion, just with everything a lot more expensive than Axel remembered. "Can I get you a drink? How was the trip and all?"

"Oh, uh, a drink would be great," Axel said, nodding and then shrugging. "As for the trip, well – you know what I'm like." As soon as he said it, he almost wanted to snatch the words back, in case Roxas didn't _remember _anymore what Axel was like, but the blond's laugh was reassuring.

"I feel sorry for you, then, Demyx," he offered, slipping his thumbs through the holes in his sleeves. "Axel's a terrible traveller." The taller blond grinned in appreciation, while Axel snorted and made a show of pouting in injury, knowing full well it was all true. Roxas waved them over to a two-set of lounge suites, backing away, saying, "Take a seat, get rid of your bags, just dump them anywhere – I'll get your drinks." He exited the room quickly, a faintly agitated air surrounding him. As he vanished through a doorway, Axel saw him pull up one sleeve and check his watch.

The redhead puffed out his cheeks in a sigh, looking around for a good place to leave everything, Demyx meeting his gaze with raised brows, an inquisitive tilt of the head. Axel shook his head, gestured with a heavy duffel bag to the side of the room, near a vast window. They trailed over, dragging their belongings, picking carefully past the low black coffee table, lifting everything higher so it wouldn't get scratched.

Axel set the duffel down, unhooked two bags from their position around his neck, shrugged off his hiking pack and placed it carefully on the carpet. Beside him, Demyx was doing the same, setting his sitar gently against the window, making sure it wouldn't slip.

Being suddenly so many tens of pounds lighter felt strange, kind of floaty, after having hauled them uphill from the station, before promptly getting lost for a good half-hour. To think that this was the last time they'd have to wear them all like that was almost startling, a welcome revelation.

Axel rolled his aching shoulders a couple times, sent a sidelong look at Demyx and grinned, knuckles resting on hips. "Not bad, huh?" he asked, quietly. He gestured a hip to the window, which offered a generous sight of the buildings and tall tops of trees in the park a couple blocks away. "Nice view." Demyx smiled, nodded, still obviously not quite at ease, understandable in the environment of someone he didn't even know, no matter how much he'd been regaled on the subject of Roxas, once upon a time.

"It sure is nice of him to take us in like this," he responded, just as softly.

Roxas re-entered the room, padding on bare feet across the carpet with a bottle of beer in each hand. Holding them up, he asked unsurely, "Too early? I can get you sodas, if you want, I think I've got a couple tucked away somewhere."

Axel faltered, smiled, shook his head. "As much of a homebody as ever, huh, Rox?" The spike-haired blond scratched his head with the bottom of one of the bottles sheepishly.

"Yeah, well… I get busy. It's easier to eat and stuff out of the house."

Axel accepted the beers, handed one to Demyx, who murmured his thanks, Roxas waving it off. "But _what _a house," the redhead commented, sweeping a hand at their surroundings, uncapping his beer effortlessly. "If I was you, I wouldn't even bother to leave. Screw the outside world – this place is _nice, _Roxas."

The blond ran his hands through his hair, glanced around. "It's a house," he said, simply. "I don't really pay much attention to it. I get it cleaned regularly, and I usually sleep in it, but other than that…" He shrugged. "I'm not really around a lot, I guess."

"And – " Demyx started to speak, stopped when they both looked at him, then ploughed ahead, "you don't mind letting us stay here, even though you're not around much?"

Roxas' blue gaze swivelled around to Axel for a long moment. "Well… I know Axel. I trust him. I definitely don't have a problem with it, otherwise I wouldn't have invited you guys in the first place."

Axel drifted over to one of the sofas, sat down experimentally, testing the softness. "But, jeeze, Roxas – I know you said you were doing _well, _but I had no idea you meant well on _this _scale." He hooked an arm over the back of the chair, as Demyx settled beside him, following automatically. He asked curiously, "What are you even doing these days? I know you graduated top of your class and came back here… but, then what? You've always been kind of vague on the phone."

Roxas smiled, dugs his hands into his pockets, wandering over, restlessly staying standing. "I got a loan and opened a restaurant," he confessed. "My older brother helped me out, you know how he's got the courier business? He put the business up as collateral, did a lot of riding around for me with advertising and gathering materials and stuff, and I took care of the operational side of things." Lifting a shoulder, he added, "It worked."

Axel gave a low whistle. "Cloud did all that? Man. Talk about trust."

"He sounds like a nice guy," Demyx chipped in. "You're lucky to have such a great family."

Roxas chuckled, scratched a toenail over the carpet. "Well, I am with my brother, at least, yeah. He's always done a lot for me."

There was a lull in conversation, awkwardness springing instantly into the space between words as Roxas continued to stand, eyes busily shifting from place to place, his two guests perched on unfamiliar furniture. Axel cleared his throat, asked, "Aren't you going to have a drink with us? Sit down, we'll catch up and stuff. You can tell me more about the restaurant."

Roxas sighed, shook his head, kicking the base of the sofa lightly. "Actually… I have somewhere to be. I'm sorry, Axel, I feel like such a shitty host, but – I took an hour off so I'd be here to help you settle in, but then you were late, and I got a call from Hayner in the kitchens, and…"

"And duty calls, right?" Axel smiled crookedly, Roxas grimacing back with regret.

"Sorry."

Axel waved his beer through the air dismissively. "Forget it. We're the ones who're imposing on your life, you can't just shuffle everything around to take care of your ex and his best friend. Jesus, Rox, we appreciate you taking us in at all." Demyx nodded fervently in agreement, the corner of Roxas' mouth lifting.

"Well – for what it's worth, I don't consider this an imposition at all. I'll be happy with the company."

Out the corner of his mouth, Axel muttered, "What, Roxas working too hard to have friends? Surely you jest." The spike-haired blond sent him a mock-glare, kicked the chair harder in warning.

"Shut up. And since I'll be there til stupidly late, you guys are both welcome to catch a cab over later tonight – I'll feed you, and you can meet some friends of me and my brother. Do either of you play pool?" He then shook his head. "I feel like I should know that already. Sorry."

Axel laughed softly. "What a terrible boyfriend you were, to not know if I played pool or not. Makes everything else seem just _worthless." _Green eyes rolled. "No, neither of us plays – in fact, I'll go so far as to assume that we suck. But when food comes into the equation, we'd be there even if you _tried_ to keep us out."

"I'll get the doorman to call you a taxi, then," Roxas said, thumbs returning to the holes in his sleeves. "He'll call up to you on the phone when it's time, and tell the driver where to go." He checked his watch a third time. "It won't be til late, though," he warned. "So if you feel like eating something beforehand, I won't blame you." He flapped an arm over his head as he walked past them, through a doorway leading into a short hallway out of sight, "Anything you find in the cupboards, you can eat. Consider the place yours."

"He's lucky," Demyx remarked, once Roxas was out of earshot, "that we're not the type to take advantage." He stuck his tongue out with a grin, Axel reaching over lazily to flick his biceps.

"We're lucky," he corrected, "that he's willing to put up with our sponging."

"Touché," the blond agreed. "But we won't be sponging for long, right? Roxas said he'd give you a job." Axel gulped a mouthful of beer, nodding, wondering exactly what kind of job his ex had in mind for him. Roxas knew all the work experience he had, since he'd worked all but one of his jobs in Britain, where they'd met at seventeen and lived out their relationship, calling an end to it when Roxas returned to the States. He knew the kind of work ethic Axel had, and respected it enough to offer him a job in his own _restaurant, _for God's sake, despite the fact that the redhead had absolutely no culinary experience whatsoever. He'd been a busboy, among a myriad of other things, but looking at the kind of style that Roxas was living in these days, he couldn't imagine donning a stained apron, tying his hair back under a bandanna, and collecting people's dirty dishes into a greasy tub to rattle back to the kitchen.

Roxas emerged a minute later, looking every inch like a twenty-three-year-old moocher in his ripped clothes and dirty sneakers, looking, with a small stab at Axel's heart and memories, just like he always had back when they were together. He really hadn't changed all that much – just looked a little older, face a little leaner, and possibly with a shade more confidence.

Looping a bag over his neck, making sure automatically that his cell phone was in place, the blond said distractedly, "You still have my number, right? I left it beside the phone just in case, anyway, along with a couple emergency numbers. There's also – " He lifted his head, pointed over at a small bowl on a table beside the front door. " – a spare set of keys over there, in case you feel like going and checking things out. Just, uh, don't lose them, and don't lose _yourselves." _He took a deep breath, hands falling to his sides, shooting Axel a tight smile. "Really, I'm such a shit-head abandoning you like this, we've got so much to talk about, right? I wanna hear about the last three years of your life." He remembered Demyx, added in his direction, "And I'd just like to talk to you in general, I guess." His smile softened a little. "But we can make a start on all that later tonight."

Axel bobbed his head in agreement, said gently, "I'm looking forward to it, Rox."

The blond double-checked everything, said a quick good-bye, and left with his cell-phone beginning to warble in his bag, hands reaching to undo the clasps and snatch it out. As he closed the door, he said alertly, "Hayner?" Then the soundproofing kicked in, and Axel didn't hear any more.

There was silence for a while, the pair of them sucking at their beers, before Demyx asked suddenly, "Are you okay?"

Axel started a little, brought out of whatever reverie he'd sunk into, throwing a glance sideways at the blond. He swallowed, took a sip of beer, cleared his throat and lightly sank his upper teeth into the mound of his palm, holding his head up, elbow on knee. "Truthfully?" he sighed, after a moment's thought. "…Yeah. I am." He was almost surprised by it. Whatever he'd been expecting to bubble up from the past, it hadn't. He and Roxas had an old connection, and it was great seeing him again – but whatever powerful feelings Axel had feared would rear up to consume him were either taking their sweet-ass time, or simply staying back where they belonged.

"He's definitely a cutie," Demyx pointed out. "The pictures don't do him justice."

Axel shot him a narrow look. "You interested?"

The blond grinned wickedly back. "Would you kick my ass if I was?"

"Yes," Axel replied sharply. "He's off-limits."

Demyx regarded him curiously. "So… does this mean that you're still into him?"

"No," the redhead said calmly, sipping his beer. "What it _means _is that best friends can't date exes. At least, not mine. Not yet, anyway."

Demyx shook his head, patted his shoulder. "It's okay – I was just yankin' your chain. You know he's not my type." He sat back, getting more comfortable, looking around with interest. "Everything's black and white," he observed. Axel grunted agreement.

"That's Roxas for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Well, I feel awkward, but I'm giving the warning that the scene this whole story is inspired by is in this chapter, and I have literally copy/pasted sections of Nijuuni's drabble into it, because they needed no change whatsoever. I FEEL LIKE SUCH A HACK D': So, uh, consider that section a fanfic of a fanfic… which is poorly ripped off… and I apologise for not being better at translating it into my own words :(

Haha, my lower back is aching – I need to get the hell off the computer XD Next on the agenda of what is now officially known as 'the two-chapter rotation schedule' (because I _really _like the sound of that :D) is _most definitely Hearts That Pump Dust. X3_

_--_

CHAPTER TWO

At night, there was little need for lights within the guard kiosk at the gates; the green glow of the depleting mako supply illuminated the immediate area, floating like a haze over the buildings, the parking lot, reflecting off the glass of the two windows on either side of the small office. Sometimes, once official hours were over and Reno and Rude were on the late shift, waiting to let out the midnight-oil burners, the redhead would actually do that, would shut off the guard station's lights and let the eerie radiance drift unnervingly back and forth like a fog. Reno enjoyed it, liked the Halloween feel of it all; Rude just didn't want to think about what the hell made it glow in the dark like that, or what breathing it in was gonna do to their bodies twenty-five years down the track.

On this particular evening, with their replacements on their eventual way to sit out the graveyard shift, the two men sat back to back within the kiosk's confines with the overhead halogen lights humming strongly, the dark-skinned man quietly operating the window at the exit gate while, at the entrance side, Reno sorted through the day's paperwork and tomorrow's logbook. A hush existed within their space, broken only by Rude wishing each leaving driver a pleasant night, and the occasional shouts through to Reno.

One such example came as Zack rolled his bike up to the boom, similar to Cloud's in model, unsurprising since the blond had got his from a place that Zack had enthusiastically recommended. As Rude rolled the window to one side, reaching for the raven-haired man's parking stub to punch and return, Zack called in, "Hey, guys! You two coming to Blade later on? Spike asked you, right? Coz if he didn't, if he decided he doesn't feel like putting up with Reno kicking his ass mercilessly at the gentle art of pool, I'll invite you instead!"

Reno barked a laugh, scribbled a line through a name on his work, turned his head and yelled, "No, we felt like staying in to finish our knitting, man. I don't know, I think the pool scene's getting a little too wild for the likes of me and Rude!"

As Rude passed the parking stub back out through the window, he said, "Cloud asked earlier – we'll be there at twelve, once the shift ends and we get a chance to change."

"Awesome!" Happily, Zack tucked the ticket away, gave a loose, two-finger salute, and revved his bike obnoxiously while the gate whirred and lifted. "See you guys later on, then!" he bellowed through the noise, before releasing the brake and going tearing off down the lonely road, tail-lights dwindling fast into the blackness. Rude wheeled the window back into place, focused on his own paperwork, the two friends whiling away the hours until it'd be time to blow the joint and go resume their lives.

"Fuck," Reno murmured at one point, Rude glancing from his calculator to his papers, still wearing his sunglasses despite the outer darkness.

"What?"

"I got paid today."

"…And?"

Reno shrugged, writing quickly in the margin of his book. "And that's a good thing?"

"So why are you cursing?"

Rude couldn't help but ask questions like that. His mind was calm and flowing, logical and deep, and part of the appeal of having a friend like Reno was that Reno was someone who threw big, splash-inducing boulders into that mental stream and laughed like an insane little kid afterwards. Nine times out of ten, the large man found it frustrating, but he had to admit, it kept life a little more interesting. In a way.

Sometimes.

It made him wonder at things more often, at least.

The redhead lifted his head. "Because… fuck is all-purpose? It was a _good _fuck."

He smirked, already slotting that mentally into many other aspects of his life, but Rude cut him off as he opened his mouth to vocalise whatever nugget of intelligence he was getting ready to divulge by saying, "Headlights."

Reno's gaze slewed sideways to see the pinpricks growing closer, reaching forward to open up the window, saying over his shoulder, "My whole life has been full of – "

"Good fucks," Rude said with him, sighing and bobbing his head. "It would have hurt you to not say it, wouldn't it?"

The approaching car slowed, stopped at the boom, a head poking out the window, "Hey, Reno! I left my parking stub at home, let me through, okay? I'll double-punch it tomorrow."

"Elena, you forgetful bitch, that's the third time this week!"

"Buddy, I'm punching _you _out, I can make life _very _difficult for you!"

Reno wagged a finger warningly, "Ah, but I have to let you _in _first, don't I?"

The blonde smiled prettily, fluttered her lashes. "Okay, Reno, you don't have to let me in – I'll just turn the car around and go home."

The redhead snorted. "Fuck _no, _woman," adding over his shoulder to Rude, "When it comes to Elena, it's _always _gonna be a bad fuck."

"_What was that?" _came shrieked from the car.

"Welcome to ShinRa Electric, sweetheart!" Reno hit the button, the boom rising. "Is Tseng coming, or what?"

"He'll be on time!" The car went rolling past, the woman's arm waving through the night air.

"She's lucky we love her," Reno commented, to which Rude grunted his agreement. The redhead sighed. "Jeeze, Rude, don't talk so much, I can't get a word in edgewise." Bored now that his focus had been divided from his work, Reno twisted the chair from side to side, eyes flicking to the white-faced clock hanging on the wall over the Playboy calendar. Still twenty minutes til their shift ended, an endless length of time at which the redhead groaned, flopping bonelessly down in his seat, fingers nearly grazing the ground as he waited for Rude to announce the presence of another set of headlights. "Oh, man," he complained. "Are we there yet? I wanna shoot some _pool, _Rude. And I wanna hit on Roxas to watch Cloud go bug-shit and threaten to beat me up."

"You get way too much entertainment out of that," Rude muttered, unable to quite suppress the humour in his voice. "You're lucky Roxas doesn't take you seriously."

"Naw, Roxas has a head on his shoulders," the redhead said dismissively. "And if he _did _take me seriously – well, I'd only sleep with him three or four times before letting him down gently, I guess. Wouldn't want to lead the kid astray," he added brightly, before Rude shoved his seat back, crushing him briefly against his desk. He bent over it dramatically, groaning, choking, "Okay, okay… Fine, I'd sleep with him once, _max." _

"Hopeless," Rude muttered.

"I am," the redhead agreed sagely, wheezing slightly. He propped his face on his arms, head turning to the side, keeping an eye out for Tseng, restless with Elena's arrival. Footsteps appeared after about ten minutes, the clap of soles muffled by the walls. Elena stepped up, as Rude rolled aside his window, with two Styrofoam cups of coffee, the wind rustling her short hair strongly. "You guys doing anything tonight?"

Rude accepted the coffee gladly, leaned over and nudged Reno with the other one, the redhead sighing impatiently and taking it. "Well," the bald man said dryly, "according to Reno, we're getting up to some knitting."

"And then sleeping," Reno chipped in, sipping the lukewarm beverage and scowling. "Because we're boring."

The blond raised her eyebrows, slapped her hands on the window's edge. "I see. Fun couple you two make."

As one, they protested, "We're _not _a _couple," _with Reno adding, "Jeeze, gimme some credit, girl."

As Elena laughed at their reaction, Tseng's car appeared on the horizon, two bright circles growing nearer, the redhead perking instantly. "Finally! We are _out _of this box!"

Elena hummed playfully, head poking through Rude's window, eyes going to the clock. "I don't think so, you've still got ten minutes left in this shift."

"But," Reno pointed out, chair swivelling, a finger rising, as he took a mouthful of coffee, "I know this _awesome _lady, her name escapes me, who comes to work on time _all _the time, even if she _does _forget her parking stub, and she's _so cool, _she takes over a whole ten minutes _early." _He shrugged, draining the remainder of the cup in one long swallow. "So, you see, it works in my favour."

"Wow, she's a wonder," Elena marvelled, with a smug look. "Much more generous than _I'd _ever be."

"Be a pal," Rude said, cajoling in his own taciturn way. The woman sighed, smiled, winked.

"Well, if it's for _you, _Rude…"

"Hey," Reno barked over his shoulder, standing and opening his window as Tseng braked, "I very graciously let you through without your stub, thank you very much." He yelled through the opening, "Took your time, huh? Me an' Rude have places to be, people to see, but do you consider that at all? What about _me, _Tseng, what about _my _feelings?"

"Evening, Tseng," Elena called across, receiving a distant reply from their team leader. Reno punched the parking ticket, passed it back, lifted the gate. Rude was packing everything efficiently away, stapling his work at the corners, slipping the resultant sheaf into the out-tray, already standing and grabbing his coat while Reno fumbled to quickly follow. He threw everything into the out-tray on top of Rude's, the man unlocking the door, stepping out into the night. He caught up as Rude flipped a wave and a murmur of thanks to Elena, standing with her arms wound firmly around herself for warmth in the sharp breeze. Reno hopped quickly through the doorway, sneakers scuffing the tarmac in an unsteady dance as he started to follow Rude through to the carpark, then darted back and gathered Elena in a warm, one-armed hug. "Jesus, you look cold," he scolded. "Next time, bring a coat."

She chuckled shiveringly. "Where's yours, Reno?"

"I forgot it, because I'm a forgetful bitch _just like you!" _The tall, red-haired man bent and squeezed the short, blonde woman and added, "It's like we're twins!" He steered her forcefully to the office door, said, "Take _my_ seat, Elena, my ass warmed it for you." Releasing her as she stepped up into the warmth, he turned, started running, throwing an arm over his head. _"See you tomorrow!" _His long steps brought him swiftly up beside Rude, hands buried in his coat pockets, head down as he moved quickly through the chilly night. The redhead slapped his hands together with anticipation. "All right! Let's get the hell away from this dump!" He grabbed his keys as Rude held them out, unlocked the car from a distance, the pair climbing into the still interior, Reno starting it up and getting the heater going.

Waiting a few minutes to let the engine warm, he swiftly flipped through the CD stack in the console, chose one and slid it in, let music pour from the speakers as he reversed sharply, swung the car around and sped around the building, taking it thumping hard and careless over the speed-bumps. He ground to a stop at Tseng's window, the man in place now, window open, a calm smile in place as Reno held out their stubs, punching them capably and returning them to the waiting hand. "Have a good night, guys."

Reno put the car into gear, pulling away as the gate lifted. They passed from the gloom of the wasteland's edge and into the city lights, different coloured, speckled and gleaming, following the roads home, while all around them the busy Friday-night traffic hooted and snarled. The trip back to their shared apartment was uneventful, aside from the occasional honks from other motorists, Rude resisting the urge to push his feet right through the floor in a fervent wish for brakes of his own as Reno employed his usual, lazy reaction times.

At last pulling into the single reserved parking bay for their apartment, engine cutting out, the two men vacated the vehicle, stomped upstairs and let themselves in, turning on lights, checking the time. "Cool – everyone should be there already." Reno threw a grin over at his friend. "Cloud's unsuspectingly drinking his cares away, little knowing that by the time I get there and have had as much as he has, he'll already be piss-ass drunk. I could beat him with my right hand tied behind my back."

"Heh," Rude chuckled, "care to place a bet on that?"

"Fuck no," the redhead replied, not missing a beat. "I can't hold a cue with _one_ _hand." _He added in a mutter, "Not unless _I'm _piss-ass drunk and challenging people to duals, at any rate."

Rude said, "You have the first shower, I'm eating something before we go." Reno happily did so, steaming up the bathroom, careful not to get his hair wetter than the inevitable damp ends, before choking on a mixture of deodorant and dabbed cologne. He paraded half-naked through the apartment, quickly dressed, finishing it all off by tying a small red scarf around his left wrist.

"Yeah, Rude, lookin' _sharp_," he commented without looking as he stepped from his bedroom, adjusting the scarf, the other man dressed in his usual black and white, unsurprisingly having already eaten, washed and dressed in the time it took Reno to complete just one of those tasks.

"You're not eating?" Rude drawled.

"Eh, I'll steal something from the kitchens. They're always getting ready to throw out stupidly edible things when I get there." He stopped in the middle of the room, threw his arms wide, demanded expectantly, "How do I look?"

Rude slowly looked him up and down. "The scarf makes you look like a rejected extra from a pirate movie."

Tightening the insulted scarlet article's knot, he scowled. "Yeah, well, you're dressed in the same fucking outfit you wear every time we go out, I'm not taking your opinion seriously." He then suddenly slapped his forehead, exclaimed with dawning horror, "Dear God, we really _do _sound like a couple. Quick, say something straight!"

"I like boobs, Reno."

The redhead drew a dramatic breath, fingers springing away from his head, gave a short nod. "Yeah, okay, that did it. Me, too, they're great. I wonder if Tifa's gonna be there?"

Working in reverse, they switched off the lights, locked the front door, and, Reno waxing poetic on the subject of Cloud's co-worker's chest, returned to the car.

--

_Blade. _

The neon blue sign was bright, the windows facing the street covered by thick curtains. Axel and Demyx climbed from the cab, fare already taken care of by the doorman at Roxas' apartment building, the wind ruffling them, smelling of a mixture of the natural savoury of the nearby, wild wastelands, and the bitterness of the city. As the taxi drove off, the pair looked up at Blade's sign, understated and somehow glamorous. It was eleven, the place looking deserted from the front. He glanced over at Demyx, who was rugged up in his tattered, much-loved coat with fluffy cuffs and collar, eyebrows arching as he inspected the front of the building.

One way or another, Axel's estimation that it was going to be a nice place was, so far, very much in the correct. He breathed a deep sigh, green eyes flashing up and down the street, before he gestured grandly to Demyx, saying, "After you, m'dear."

The blond shook his head shortly, grinned in the same slightly anxious way he had been all day, and responded, "Oh, no, dear sir, I insist. First the worst, second the best, and all that jazz."

Axel's eyes narrowed, growling in mock-offence as he took the lead, crossed the sidewalk, grasped the shining brass handle of the restaurant's closed door and opened it hesitantly into a dimly lit hallway, short, another doorway opening out a little way down to the left. Shrugging, the redhead stepped in, ushered Demyx after him, the blond skipping nervously in, hands disappearing into their opposite sleeves, chin burrowing into the soft faux-fur of his collar. "Wow, it's looking – populated," he observed weakly. "In the wholly… empty sense... A-am I the only one thinking 'haunted'?"

"Yep," Axel replied, softly shutting it behind them. The pair ventured down the burgundy-walled hall, peered around the doorway, both letting out identically impressed noises. The restaurant was silent, dim, but its round, black tables still managed to gleam in the broad space, the upturned chairs starkly fashionable, their legs sticking into the air. There were banks of dormant lights hanging from the ceiling, like the kind you'd expect to see in a playhouse, and black-and-white pictures hanging from the walls, of anything and everything, from old-time celebrities, to weeping children, to glorious, frozen panoramas, photographed or painted, all in the same monochrome. Against the far corner of the massive room stood a cold, silent, low stage, within easy view of a good portion of the tables. Directly to the left of the two men sat a long, low bench and a host's stand.

Nothing moved. No one was there. There was sheer, utter silence hanging in the air.

Demyx muttered, "Still denying my haunted theory?"

"Yes," Axel answered, and entered the room. He walked through the abandoned tables slowly, weaving around their pattern, Demyx keeping close. Spying a door further along the wall, towards the edge of the stage-audience area, he made for it, only to find, to his frustration, that it lacked a handle, consisting only of a keyhole. However, when he pressed an ear to it, he could have sworn he heard voices. Brightening, he leaned back, prepared to pound against the pitch-black metal, when a voice suddenly interrupted, "What are you doing?"

Demyx slammed into the wall, slid down into a messy pile of collapsed human. Axel didn't flicker, instead turning his attention to the figure in the middle of the dining floor behind them, fifteen feet away. He reached up a hand to scratch his head, forcing away the fact that he, too, had been startled, saying uncertainly, "Uh, my name is Axel, I'm a friend of Roxas? He said to come tonight, but we're kind of… lost."

The man with the slate-coloured hair covering half his face regarded him warily, looked down at Demyx. "Your friend…?"

Axel dug a toe into Demyx, who yelped in a muffled sort of fashion. "He's fine. You just scared him."

"Right," came the dry reply. He inspected the redhead critically. "You're sure you're Roxas' friends? Usually, people know to come in by the basement entrance. Only Roxas' brother comes directly into the restaurant before the pool hall closes."

"We're new to the area," Demyx called weakly from the floor. "And you gave me a _heart attack._ I'm _dead_ now."

"Well, then, I've changed my mind," Axel said down to him, "it looks like the place _is _haunted. Congratulations, Dem, you're the resident ghost." He kicked him again. "Get up, be polite." He stepped over the blond lump, approached the man with a hand extended. "Like I said, I'm Axel – and like _he_ said, we're new. Roxas is putting us up for a couple weeks before we find our own place. He and I used to go out when he studied in England."

"Ah." There was a note of interest in that single syllable, as well as full, firm understanding – Axel had proven his identity nicely. The man shook his hand confidently. "I'm Zexion. I'm a waiter here. I usually lock the front door when I leave, so it's a good thing you came when you did – it wouldn't do to have the pair of you stuck out there wondering how to get into a closed restaurant." His gaze slid past Axel, to where Demyx had dragged himself up and now hovered unhappily in the background, looking a little worse for wear. He smiled slightly, a quirk of the lips. "Sorry for scaring you."

Demyx ran a hand through his hair with a heavy breath. "No, it's okay," he said, sounding reconciled. "I scare pretty easy, anyway." He jutted out a hand, Axel stepping to one side. "My name's Demyx. I never dated Roxas, though."

"It's nice to meet you," Zexion smiled, grasping and shaking. He backed away a couple steps, folding both hands under a long black coat he was clutching to his stomach, over an untucked white shirt. "I'll show you both to Roxas, if you're unsure of where to go."

"Please," Axel accepted gratefully, Demyx nodding hard at his side. The man turned on heel, returned the way he'd apparently come, the two trailing him through the heart of the many tables and out the other side, up through a short hallway tucked beside the stage and through a set of black swinging doors, into an environment of blinding white.

The two small square windows on the doors, placed so that incoming and outgoing traffic were well aware of each other, had been blocked by sheets of heavy card taped over the glass, which rendered the entrance almost invisible to the casual observer.

Hard light bounced off a thousand shining surfaces, dazzling the two newcomers, Zexion glancing over his shoulder as they gazed around, the colour of his hair and visible eye suddenly bright in comparison to what it had been in the deserted dining area. The place was noisy – the soundproofing must have been brilliant. Roxas had a knack, it would seem, for separating one section of life from another, without any overlap whatsoever. The diners would never know the sort of hysterical place the kitchen might become, and the restaurant's employees would never be disturbed by the outside ruckus.

There were a lot of people wearing the same casual black-pants-white-shirt uniform that Zexion was toting, mostly cleaning to great perfection the many aspects of the sprawling kitchen, along with three poor suckers washing dishes over at the far wall, steam clogging the air. Axel hoped to God this wasn't what Roxas had in mind for him – he really didn't feel like being a restaurant underdog. The offer was kind and all, but he'd had enough of people treating him like shit for the span of a couple lifetimes. If that was the case, he'd politely decline, and go forge his own way.

At one corner of the busy kitchen, behind a stainless-steel bench, obscured by a series of hanging pots, stood a knot of people that didn't fit into the environment, dressed in a ragtag mismatch of clothing, their voices soaring over the regular clatter and clang of the cleaning noises.

Across the room, someone demanded, "What the hell, Zexy? What're you doing back, and who're the civvies?" A harassed-looking young woman stalked down the aisles, eyeing off the newcomers suspiciously, before turning to the slate-haired man for answers.

"Yuffie – these are friends of Roxas'," Zexion said calmly. "Or, the redhead is. They're the ones he went home for today. He invited them here, but failed to tell them to go around to the basement, so they were hanging around in the restaurant."

"I see." She didn't sound thrilled about it, but the agitation left her in a hurry. "Okay, then."

"Yuffie's Blade's maitre-d," Zexion explained to the redhead and blond. "She also helps choose the menus for each week with our chef and Roxas."

"Hey, nice to meet you." Axel offered forth his hand, Demyx following suit wearily. By the time all introductions had taken place, the woman was calmer.

"Welcome, guys, don't mind me if I start yelling at people at random intervals – all in a day's work, y'know? Our head chef Aerith's way too nice for her own good, so it falls to me to be the screamer of the bunch." Demyx laughed a little nervously at this, inciting a faint smile from Zexion.

"I'll take you both to Roxas."

At that point, one member of the noisy group in the corner looked over his shoulder, saw the four of them standing there, and froze. He debated for a moment, then cleared his throat, straightened, called, "Axel?"

The redhead twisted with a frown, the group shifting and glancing over curiously as the blond man that had spoken navigated out of their midst, breaking free, coming around the bench with a beer in hand, a hesitant look on his face. "You _are _Axel, aren't you?"

Axel's eyes took in his features, his colouring, rose to the spiked hair, and he uttered, a moment later, "…Cloud, right?"

A smile bloomed slowly on the blond's face, creeping up at the edges, with a slight, cautious edge. "Yeah… Nice to finally meet you. It's been a while since we spoke." They looked at each other for a long minute without words, everyone else watching with confusion, Demyx the only one with a clue as to what was going on. He wore his own small smile, a satisfied expression that caught Zexion's silent attention.

Carefully, Cloud asked, "So… you're here to see Roxas?"

Hands going into pockets, Axel scuffed a sneaker along the ground, dipped his head in a nod. "Yeah, he asked me and Dem along." He jerked his head towards his best friend, who instantly lifted a hand and waved. He then added hesitantly, "You do know that we're staying with him at the moment, right?"

Cloud laughed a little, waved a hand in confirmation. "Yeah, yeah, he told me." He took a breath, straightened a little and inspected the tall redhead for a moment, before giving a nod. "You look good. Better than the photos I ever saw of you." He paused, continued, "You look… a lot healthier these days."

Axel bowed his head with some embarrassment showing on his cheeks, it becoming evident to the man how much could be said in public, how much belonged in private to those that knew what had once-upon-a-time happened in a faraway place. "I hear you put up the collateral for this place," the redhead said to the stainless-steel bench, steering the topic to safer ground.

Cloud crossed his arms, took a swallow of beer, and smiled. "That I did. I help out where I can, right?" He stepped closer, reached out and clapped a hand briefly on Axel's shoulder. "It's good to see you, Axel. Go see Roxas, he's probably needing someone to pull his head out of his ass. It's been there all week, he'll have to get some fresh air sooner or later."

There was a bark of laughter from elsewhere in the kitchen, a passing kitchen-hand, breaking the small spell of tension that had fallen across the assembly. Axel inhaled deeply, a peaceful expression in place as he turned to Zexion. "You mind leading me the rest of the way?"

Demyx hung back. "You go ahead," he offered. "You guys have a few years to catch up on, right? I'll only get in the way – I'll just stick around here… if that's okay?" he added to Yuffie, who was absorbing every word with high interest. She nodded quickly.

"Sure, whatever, just don't break anything and we're friends."

"Ah – and if I do?" the blond returned nervously.

"You're sure you're okay with that?" Axel asked dubiously. Demyx waved his hands around airily.

"It's fine, it's fine, get the hell out and leave me alone. You'd only cramp my style, anyway."

Axel smirked briefly, shook his head, followed after Zexion as the man resumed his journey through the kitchen. They exited into a narrow passageway, Axel's hands pressing against the walls as they ascended a set of stairs, and the waiter left him at Roxas' office, ready to bridge three years of separation and find some middle-ground.

--

It was one o'clock when Reno stomped lazily down the stairs, from the restaurant's main room to the basement pool hall. The hall always stayed open an hour and a half longer than the restaurant itself, operating independently during that time. Once eleven-thirty hit and all regular patrons had left, the street-located basement entrance was locked, Cloud using his own set of keys to unlock the black metal door between the two sections of Blade, leaving them free to roam back and forth.

A game was currently in progress between Tifa and Zack, the rest of the group littered around the place. The others had already played a couple of games on the other tables, and were content to watch the battle of the dark-haired sexes take place, Cloud and Leon leaning against the dartboard, arms folded, Rude resting on a pool-cue, free of his glasses for once.

"Hey, Cloud, who's the cute blond kid in the kitchen?" Reno called as he descended. "Your brother's emo waiter is hitting on him."

"Zexion?" Tifa exclaimed, lining up a shot. "How cute. I didn't know he bent that way."

"His name's Demyx," Cloud answered. "He's one of those 'friend of a friend' type guys." Then he scowled. "I'm surprised you didn't elbow your way in to try him yourself, you seem to have a penchant for cute blond kids."

Reno fluttered his eyelashes as he approached them at the far corner table, uncapping the vodka drink he'd swiped from the upstairs bar. "Oh, Cloud, you know I'd never cheat on Roxas like that. He's the _only _cute blond for me – barring your own delectable ass, of course." He gave a toothy grin, which was followed by a growl from Leon, who shifted slightly against the wall, Reno amending, "Which is already taken, of course, by the man who looks like he belongs in a shampoo commercial."

"A shame for you, then," Cloud said scathingly, "that Roxas wouldn't touch you with a barge pole."

"Oh, my heart! It stings!" Reno sucked at his drink.

Cloud stiffened, expression growing determined. "Okay, fine. The second Tifa and Zack are done, we're having this out, Reno."

"Mano-a-mano," Zack declared, eyeing off the table. "Pool ball-a-pool ball."

"Jerkwad-a-tightwad," Rude interjected, drawing a general murmur of agreement.

Reno, meanwhile, just cackled. "Why, Cloud, I thought you'd never ask! Zack, hurry up and let her beat you already." The two dark-haired players turned to glare.

Reno paced around the table, giving pointers indiscriminately, poking fun where he could, and generally making his presence felt. Leon leaned over to murmur something into Cloud's ear, the blond watching Zack and Tifa's game impatiently. He nodded shortly, but didn't speak. Reno grinned stupidly as Cloud drained his fifth bottle of beer for the night.

As Tifa sank the eight-ball, Reno clapped the losing Zack on the back, said, "That was good of you, man, she feels like she's achieved something now. I appreciate you fast-tracking it like that."

The long-haired woman started around the table after him, the pool cue held with great and terrible intent. Reno scuttled behind Zack, grabbed the man's shoulders, using him as a human shield. "Come on, Tifa, we all know you did your best, isn't that what counts?" the incorrigible redhead wheedled. Before she could cause any lasting damage, however, Tifa found her cue snatched away, Cloud twirling it and resting it on his shoulder. "Sorry, Tif, as much as I'd love to see you neuter Reno with a pool cue, I have to beat him first."

"You'd better," the woman warned, eyes narrowed at the Cheshire-grinning ShinRa guard. "Or I _really _will."

Reno kissed in her direction, winked slyly, sliding Zack's cue out of his hands. "You know I love it when you get hardcore, Tif. Makes me go all hot under the collar."

"Oh, I'll hardcore you, alright," she muttered, going to join Leon at the wall. "I _won _that game, damn it."

As Reno and Cloud collected the brightly coloured balls and reset them in the centre of the table, chalking up their cue-tips, Cloud rubbing some of the blue onto the inside of his fingers to remove some of the natural friction of his skin, Tifa's eyes were caught by a figure coming slowly down the stairs. She nudged Leon slightly, murmured, "Hey, look, it's the guy that Cloud knows."

Leon followed her gaze briefly. "Mm. Said his name was Axel, right?"

Reno was backing away from the table, smirking at Cloud. "I'll be kind and give you the first shot, princess. After all, we want this to be as fair as possible, right?" Zack hissed in a breath through grinning teeth, seeing the blond snap up the bait helplessly.

"Oh, you'll be weeping," Cloud promised. "I'm telling you, Reno, you will _regret _this." He took the head of the table, eyeing off the momentarily still, simple layout.

As Reno hooked his cue over the back of his neck, fingers hanging off, he noticed movement off to the right, glanced casually over, stopped. "Huh." It was softly uttered, ignored by Cloud, who broke the set, sending balls bumping and clacking around the table, none of them sinking. Reno turned his gaze to the table, leaned down, took his shot without much thought, managing to completely hit the wrong ball. For a long moment, there was silence, before Cloud let out a happy exclamation.

"I don't believe it! Foul!"

Zack instantly piped up, "God save me, I'm betting seventy that Reno's contracted some awful disease and can't play. He's gonna lose."

Rude, similarly incredulous, echoed, "Foul? Reno?" before snapping, "You're on, Fair."

The redhead shrugged, eyes across the room. "Yeah, yeah, take your shots, it'll make no difference." Rude twisted to see what the hell could have distracted his friend so badly, and was surprised to find a new addition to the room.

The man with the long, crimson spikes was looking around with interest at the pool hall, eyes going up to the lights, most of which had been switched off at closing time. Hands on hips he meandered over to the first table, closest to the wall, a long-fingered hand reaching out to absently touch the cues standing upright in their stand, rubbing the faded-blue tips, lifting one slightly and examining it on a slow rotation, before quietly replacing it. Gaze flicking only quickly over to where Cloud's group stood in the light, the stranger continued his inspection, meandering around the empty table, fingertips running lightly over the green felt edge, nails tapping at the hard leather.

"Yo, Reno, it's your turn."

Reno tore his eyes away from the darker side of the room, focused on the bright table, light reflecting in dots off each of the shining, scattered spheres. The blood tingled in his veins, every nerve aware of the newcomer, even with his back turned to him. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, his gaze was momentarily sightless, every sense still directed over into the dimness. Then he suddenly focused, and let out the bray of laughter Cloud was sulkily waiting for. "Oh, _dear, _Cloud – loaded table, two shots one after another, and not a single ball sunk? My _goodness _me." He looked over to Tifa, grinned innocently, added, "If _he_ ever beats you, sweetheart, you'll _know _he's letting you win." Tifa flipped him off.

Moving around the table, smugness radiating, Reno found his place to shoot from, drew his loose hair back over his shoulders and bent low, drawing the cue through his fingers, arm steady. As his gaze zeroed in on the ball in question, he noticed the red-haired stranger had wandered over and stopped several feet away, was watching the game. With a smirk and one fluid motion, he aimed the white ball at the red thirteen, sinking it in easily at the corner pocket. Satisfied, he got back up, taking in the positions of his striped pool balls, as well as another glance of the silent male that was standing two meters away.

He couldn't help but show off. One ball after another went sailing smoothly from all ends of the table, swallowed into pockets without fail, his step becoming more swaggering with each victory. Cloud's expression was pricelessly horrified, but then, the guy didn't know just how bad his luck was – if the stranger hadn't happened along, Reno wouldn't have been so determined to be a smartass.

"Oh, Tifa, I think you're gonna have to neuter me with the pool cue, after all," he said regretfully, bidding farewell to the five-ball. "I mean, Cloud over there is doing a _shit _job at defending your maidenly honour here. I'm seriously close to just letting you have your wicked way with me." He pointed a finger at her, adding firmly, "And I _even _mean that _non-_sexually. That's how much I'm feeling your pain right now."

"Reno," Cloud complained, hanging on his cue to one side, "just take your fucking shot."

The man let out a laugh. "Did you just _whine _at me?" He flashed a glance over to where the silent redhead stood watching with an amused curve of the lips, before shrugging lightly. "Okay, if you're in such a rush to lose…" The three disappeared after its rolling predecessors, and suddenly, only the eight ball was left. Cloud groaned softly, slamming his head against the tip of his cue, smearing blue chalk onto his face. "Humiliating," he despaired in a mutter. Reno only grinned, checked on the observer with a sidelong look, taking a long swallow of his drink. Stretching his arms over his head, he performed a few trunk twists, pulled up a knee to his chest, held it for several seconds before doing the same with the other.

"_Reno."_

"Cool off, man, I'm getting there. I just don't wanna pull something at the penultimate moment and screw up, is all." Cloud glowered. Finally ceasing the stretches, the redhead shook his limbs out, brought up the cue again, leaned low and aimed, showing no obvious signs of effort as he drew it back along his body and prepared to send it forward. Before he sank the eight, he made sure the man was still watching.

The black ball rolled, and dropped into the side pocket.

Zack started laughing, Leon clapping politely beside him at the show of skill. "Nicely done," he commended, Cloud busy on his knees slamming his head over and over into the edge of the table. Tifa clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"I don't know, I'm not so much in the neutering mood anymore," she sighed. "Damn it, Cloud, you should've let me at him while I had the chance."

"Zack, _shut up," _Cloud hissed, as helpless, hyena-type noises escaped his dark-haired friend, the man gripping his stomach.

Rude approached with a cool smile. "I have a way of making him stop." He held out his hand, tapped his fingers to his palm, and said, "Pay up."

Zack halted, complained, "Oh, _man!" _He fished into his pocket. "Damn it, Spike, I was so fucking sure you'd wipe the floor with him tonight…"

Reno leaned against the table, grinning broadly, the red-haired stranger in full view off to the side. "I tell you what, _Spike," _he said congenially, "you all go on upstairs and find me something _delicious _in the kitchen, and I'll forget this little soul-shattering experience ever took place. And I want _quality, _not some shitty piece of cake Yuffie's getting ready to chuck anyway."

Cloud snorted. "Oh, yeah? How am I meant to manage that?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way," Reno replied, a hard thread entering his words, eyes narrowing. Leon, who had seen the myriad looks the man had thrown Roxas' friend's way, flicked Cloud's arm.

"Come on, I'll help. You, too, Tifa, come look with us."

The woman, ever-quick to cotton on, sighed and flipped her hair. "I think I need something delicious for _me _after that," she countered.

"Hey, I _tried, _didn't I?" Cloud argued petulantly.

Meanwhile, Rude had wrapped an arm around Zack's shoulders and was steering him forcefully towards the stairs, asking calmly, "What do you _mean _you don't have the full amount on you, Zack? You can't make a bet you can't afford. That's not how these things work."

"I didn't know," the man replied shrilly. "Where are you taking me? Are the rumours about you being an ex-hitman true, and you're going to cut up my body and feed me into the restaurant's processor?"

"And then tell Yuffie the new shipment of extra-lean mince has come in, yes," the dark man confirmed placidly, leading him up the stairs, the other three in tow, leaving Reno alone.

He laughed to himself, bumped away from the table, sending a look in the redhead's direction but not approaching, instead lightly knocking the lonely white ball from one end of the table to the other with the cue, wandering around and scooping the spheres from the wooden channel beneath, placing them by twos and threes back up on the green surface.

"That's some game you played there," the voice came, a hint of admiration in his words. Reno's eyes flashed up as he straightened, the table once more littered chaotically, finding the redhead leaning with his hands resting on the edge, reaching out to carefully tap the eight-ball.

"Thanks," Reno grinned, sliding his cue back into its home beside Cloud's and a collection of others. "Name's Reno."

A hand extended over the table, Reno eyeing it, grasping it firmly, tongue snaking out unconsciously to wet his lips. "Axel," came the reply, with a wide, dare he say flirtatious, smile.

"Mm. Axel." Reno's grin broadened at the edges.

Casually, Axel said, "I haven't played pool before. Would you teach me?"

Fair brows rose, the man pursing his smirking lips, bobbing his head thoughtfully as he wandered around towards Axel's side of the table. "Yeah, yeah I could do that. I'd be happy to."

Axel rested a hip against the edge, arms folding loosely as he said, "I don't have anything delicious to give you if I lose, though. Which I'm bound to."

Chuckling, Reno shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of putting _you_ through such humiliation. This is just a lesson, after all. And Cloud's special," he tacked on wickedly.

"Uh-_huh." _Smirking, Axel brushed past him, went back the way he'd just come and got out one of the cues from the stand. Turning, a hand on one hip, the other holding the stick upright, he said, "Okay, then –I'm ready."

Relishing the experience, Reno responded evenly, "I can see that. Okay, come on back around here, stand next to me." As Axel moved to obey, Reno stretched languidly over the table, grabbing up the discarded plastic triangle and shepherding the many balls into its influence. Bent over the table, he took his time making sure the triangle was perfectly in line, before slowly lifting the plastic shape. Axel grabbed the white ball, set it on its dot down the other end, pulled the cue up into his hands and held it clumsily.

Reno joined him, drummed the fingers of one hand on the felt, taking his time looking Axel up and down in a show of inspection. "Okay, you're looking good to go," he said at last. "Now, show me how you shoot, Axel. Knock the white ball into the others."

Shrugging, the redhead answered, "Hell, I can do that much." He lined up, mimicking the body language he'd seen Reno employ during Cloud's crushing defeat and that which he'd picked up off TV over the years, and with no skill whatsoever, knocked the ball, scraped the felt, and broke the set lightly. Reno winced in sympathy for the table, said, "Mm, not a bad start, that gave me a good idea of your ability. So, okay, come around here to me, come on, come on." He gestured a hand, going around to where the white ball sat, Axel following. "Alright, go up as if you're about to take a shot, any ball you want, we'll worry about the rules after we've got your technique going." Obediently, Axel drew the cue up and back, lowering himself over the table. "And now, freeze," Reno commanded. "You're aiming for the seven, right?"

When Axel nodded, his fingers wrapped around the redhead's hips from behind, guiding him two inches to the left. One hand released him, pressing gently between his shoulder blades, encouraging him down a little lower, before reaching past him, alongside the outstretched arm holding the cue's tip steady. His hand wrapped around Axel's, adjusting the man's grip with two fingers and his thumb, knowledgeably loosening and widening their stance along the wood. "That's better," came the murmur into Axel's ear, accompanied by a warm breath. "Much better. Good. Okay, Axel, now draw back the cue, nice and easy, there's no rush."

Green eyes flashed up his way, a slight smile in place. "You're good at this."

Reno lifted a shoulder carelessly. "What can I say? I'm wonderful." He felt the rumble of Axel's chuckle, tightened his grip almost unconsciously on the redhead's hip. "Now, make sure to keep everything steady, and just smoothly and calmly hit the ball."

Axel followed his instructions, sent the ball across the table, and with Reno helping to aim, managed to sink the four by rebound. Scarlet brows rising, Axel let out a pleased noise, Reno grinning down at him. He straightened slowly, allowing Axel to do the same. "Very nice. You've got potential," he remarked, touching his tongue to a canine tooth. Blue eyes fixed on green. "So, are you a friend of Roxas'?"

Axel nodded, lounging against the table. "Mm, we've known each other a few years. He's helping me and my friend out until we get a place to stay, said something about giving me a job here."

Reno's eyes widened with his smile. "You'll be working here, at Blade? Ah…"

"What?" Axel asked, head tilting to the side.

"Oh, nothing," the man replied lightly, walking around the table. "Just another reason for me to make more effort to come to this place."

Axel laughed outright. "I see. That's good, then. I don't have any objection to that."

"And your friend, is he the guy I saw in the kitchen with the emo waiter?"

"Emo waiter? Zexion? I thought he said he was heading home," Axel mused, before shaking his head. "Hm – looks like Dem's working his magic already. I guess there's just something about a near-death experience that brings two people together."

Reno laughed, demanded, _"What?" _

"Oh, nothing a good, old-fashioned séance wouldn't cure."

Shaking his head with bewildered amusement, Reno gestured him over to where he stood. "Come on, I'll show you which ball to hit next, see if we can get the rules down before you leave tonight." He paused, asked, "Got anywhere else to be?"

With a small smile, Axel replied, "No," and joined him.

Satisfied, victory leaping in his gaze, Reno gladly showed him the many positions from which to sink the many balls over the next two hours, until Cloud came to tell them Roxas was leaving, and Demyx had fallen asleep in the kitchen.

Axel left the basement with a grin in place, the last thing he heard before disappearing through the door being Reno bitching Cloud out for both stealing his new friend away, and having the nerve to do so without bringing anything delicious to offer in his stead.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I actually quite want to continue, buuuut I'll let it go for now ;) I'm just finding it quite awesome to be writing something so different to my other stuff. Uh, yeah, to those that didn't see my LJ or whatnot, I decided to do another chapter of this because I was irritated with the lack of sensuality in the last scene of chapter two. This one was _intended _to patch that up, but it didn't work out that way in the end – OH WELL. Lots of good notes for the next chapter, at any rate, and yes, I am definitelycompletelycertainly moving on, now. Promise. :)

--

CHAPTER THREE

The piercing, broken howl that startled Rude out of bed the next day at a roll, snatching up his ShinRa issue guard's baton and charging in his boxers into the sitting room of the two-bedroom apartment ready to attack, defend, or both at once, came as a result of Reno having woken up, taken three steps towards the kitchen, and realised he'd failed to get Axel's number the night before.

--

"It's all that fucking _Cloud's _fault," the redhead complained loudly, stalking down the pavement beside Rude, the sun shining merrily from on high. His hair tangled back into a hasty ponytail, dressed sloppily for breakfast at the nearby diner, Reno tilted back his head, jabbed an accusing finger at a fluffy streak of cumulus in the blue sky, and bellowed, _"You! This is your fault, you son-of-a-bitch!" _

Rude sighed as an oncoming pedestrian crossed three lanes of traffic to avoid them.

"If he hadn't come bursting in saying _'time to go'_, Axel would have stayed longer – that bastard interrupted the whole _process. _I had been _planning _to get his digits, and then that spiky-haired _delivery boy _had to come in and destroy it! I didn't even get a chance!" The ranting continued unabated to the small diner, whereupon Rude halted, took hold of Reno's shoulder as the redhead reached for the door, and held him back. "Rude, what the fuck?"

The man smiled politely to an elderly couple exiting the restaurant, drew his companion a couple steps to one side, leaned his head close and said, "Look, if you're so eager to get the guy's number, why don't you just ask _Roxas? _That's where him and the blond kid are staying, right?"

Blue eyes blinked with sudden comprehension. "Hey, yeah." He brightened, like a dusty sheet being whipped away, and punched Rude on the arm. "I knew I was keepin' you around for _something, _Rude! You be the brains, I'll be the looks."

"Oh, I knew that already."

They entered the diner, found a booth by the window, got coffees and menus delivered by a smiling waitress. "Well, good morning," the redhead leered, somehow managing to come off as charming. "Aren't _you _a breath of fresh air on this lovely day."

"It's the afternoon," Rude murmured from the other side of the table, taking a sip of his coffee, eyes once more obscured by sunglasses.

"C-can I take your order?" the girl asked, flushing a pleased pink.

"Not yet, sweetheart, give us a chance." Reno winked, sent her scurrying off with a bit more swing in her step. Slumping down in his chair, he leaned to one side, dug his cell phone out of his pocket and distractedly perused the menu, one eye on his address book as he slowly flipped through each name. "Aahh, I want something deep-fried." He threw the menu across the table. "Rude, order for me." Pulling his coffee mug close, he drew himself back up straight, lifted his feet up onto the booth-seat and crossed his legs, toying with the sugar shaker as he found Cloud's brother's number, stolen at one point or another in order to send lewdly suggestive texts whenever he knew the two blonds were going to be hanging out together. He quickly tapped out a message, sent it off, and commenced waiting for a reply. "Is it really afternoon?" he mumbled, checking the time. One-thirty. Twelve hours ago, he would've just finished embarrassing Cloud horribly, and been on the verge of wrapping his arms around the delightfully magnetic creature he'd found Axel to be, to 'show him how to play pool'. He wondered, at the back of his mind, if the guy was really as bad as he'd seemed, or it had all been an elaborate ploy to give Reno a good excuse to feel him up at every given opportunity.

But then, the redhead admitted to himself, that could just be vanity on his part.

The waitress returned, Reno not paying attention to her this time, focus divided between checking his phone every few seconds, fiddling with it, and flicking glances out the window. Rude ordered for both of them, his steady, unrushed voice in the background of the redhead's thoughts as he replayed the night's events.

Axel had been alluring, there was no other word for it. With all his flirty looks and smiles, yet some crazy ability to keep Reno from jumping his bones right there and then on the table, from the moment Reno had unexpectedly spied him, he'd been intrigued. On top of that, the guy seemed to have a dry sense of humour, something which delighted him endlessly, along with a slight stillness of personality that made the redhead curious. Add to that the fact that he was new in town – 'fresh meat' was a term that sprung to mind, with little mental images of vampires and certain newly-met redheads getting life-changing hickies – and Reno wasn't surprised to find himself as enthralled as he was. For the entirety of the time that they'd been near one another, Reno's skin had tingled.

"Deep thoughts?" Rude asked, the waitress gone now, the man inspecting his friend's silence with curiosity. Reno grunted.

"Not particularly. Just wondering when Roxas is gonna get around to – oh!" His phone buzzed and let out a jangle, the redhead sitting up gleefully and accessing the message that came. Amused by his obvious eagerness, Rude sipped at his coffee and waited.

Then Reno snapped, "Well, son-of-a-bitch, if it doesn't run in the family." As Rude lifted an eyebrow, the redhead flipped his phone around and held it out for him to read.

"… '_Why?'" _Rude took the phone carefully, went in for a closer look. "What'd you ask him, exactly?"

"'_Can I have the number of the guy from last night?'_" Reno recited. "That's it. And he answers, _'Why?'?" _He let out a growl. "Because I wanna ask him to join _the_ _Girl Scouts, _Roxas. Not because I'm interested in him, oh, no, never _that." _

"Maybe he misunderstood," Rude suggested, passing it back. Then he grinned. "Maybe he's jealous. He only wants you sexually harassing _him. _Maybe his head's not as firmly on his shoulders as you'd like to think."

The redhead fixed him with a patient look. "Rude. I told him he could 'blow off steam with me any day of the week', and he told _me _to blow _myself. _He then went out of his way to buy me a book on yoga positions to help me 'limber up' for the task. Oh, no." He started typing out a new message. "No. He's just being a difficult bitch, because he _can." _A few seconds later, he pressed 'send'. "Okay. Now, we resume the waiting game." He grabbed up his cup, took a gulp of coffee, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the face of his phone all the while. He looked around impatiently. "Where's our fucking food?"

"It was ordered three minutes ago, Reno."

"We'd be eating already if we'd gone to McDonald's."

"We'd still be _sleeping _if you hadn't decided to start screaming in the middle of my sweet dreams," the bald man returned darkly.

"Shit, Rude, this was an emergency, though. You can have wet dreams about Tifa _any _old day of the week. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to say _sweet. _Not wet. _Sweet."_

Rude sighed, a common sound, and a moment later, Reno's phone buzzed again. He snatched it up, opened the message in a heartbeat, stared for a moment before letting out a high, strangled noise somewhere between the realms of rage and disbelief. Rude reached over without prompting and took it away, checking Roxas' reply.

"'_Next time, ask him yourself.'" _The man lifted his gaze, peered over the top of his glasses at Reno, who was gripping his face with an internal sort of pain. "I don't know, Reno, he's starting to sound like maybe you're pissing him off. He's pretty busy, you know."

"How – hard – is it to text me a fucking _number?" _the redhead demanded shrilly. "I mean, it's not like it's _time-consuming. _It'd take him less time than it's taken to make my life _difficult!"_

"…Hmm." Rude thought for a moment, then moved his thumb over the keypad, punching out a fresh message. Reno pulled his hands away from his face, interest sparking in his eyes. He dragged himself up a little, leaned over.

"…What're you saying?"

"Shush." A finger rose in his direction, keeping him at bay, making him sink back down sulkily.

"Great. _Another _waiting game," he grumbled. Seconds later, Rude sent the message, and handed the phone back to Reno. Their food arrived, the redhead staring at the plate the girl placed down. "What – what the hell is this?" He grabbed her as she was leaving. "I didn't order this!"

Nervously, she pointed to Rude. "No, I know – your friend did. You – you didn't…" Reno let her go, gestured sharply at his plate.

"Rude, what is this?"

"It's called a fruit bowl, Reno," the other man drawled. "You don't get enough vitamins."

"And are you my _mother?" _the redhead demanded. He picked up his fork, poked at the collection of brightly coloured, diced fruits. "And _what_ the _fuck _is _that? _Did someone come all over my fruit bowl, or what?"

"If you would just _taste it – " _Reno let out a raucous burst of laughter. " – you'd find that it was Greek yoghurt."

"I don't just _taste _things that look like _come _all over my plate."

Rude glared. "Well, excuse _me _for trying to get you to have something healthy for once."

"Didn't I ask for something deep-fried? _Didn't I?" _

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Rude said, "We're starting to sound like a couple again, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are," Reno agreed. "A horrible, horrible, _unhappy_ couple that should've broken up five years ago. I'll just… eat my jizzed-all-over fruit now." He dipped a fork into the off-white yoghurt, lifted it hesitantly to his mouth to taste, licked his lips and commented, "Mm. Creamy."

Warningly, Rude uttered, "Reno…"

With earnest innocence, the redhead exclaimed, "No, really! I'm being serious! I like it, it's good." He scooped up some more, had a piece of apple with it, Rude watching with mild discomfort as the redhead visibly enjoyed his meal. His own breakfast, a bagel with cream cheese, really wasn't looking so appetising anymore.

Reno's phone went off. The redhead grabbed it, eyes intent, brows drawing together, checked the message – and let out a whoop of delight. "Rude, you bastard, what the hell did you _say _to him?"

"He gave it to you?"

"Hell _yes, _he gave it to me!"

Rude smirked. "Oh, well. I just told him it was me."

Reno paused, raised an eyebrow. "Wait – he thinks it's for _you?" _

"No," the man replied calmly, picking up his coffee. "He knows it's for you. I just signed my name, is all."

Reno computed this, a slow scowl working onto his features. "So, _wait…!" _

Rolling his eyes, Rude asked, "Are you going to make the call now? You finally have his number, remember?"

Eyes narrowed, expression unchanging, Reno copied the number into his address book and labelled it, _'Sexy'. _"I think," he announced, as he pressed the call button and lifted his phone to his ear, "that Roxas is very fast becoming _uncute." _

"Cloud will be relieved," Rude murmured, starting to scrape the cheese off his bagel with a knife.

--

Axel was stirred early by sounds of movement in the apartment, blinking awake slowly, Demyx pressed close, mouth hanging open. They were sharing the double bed in Roxas' second bedroom, and this automatically made the redhead a victim of Dem's insane body contortions, the blond having managed to deposit his head onto Axel's collarbone, clutching him like a life-raft, while his body extended out and twisted. The end result had Demyx looking like he'd been hit by a truck and left for dead, drooling on his friend's chest.

He worked to unhook the blond's arms from his torso, groping over blindly for his phone, sitting dark and silent on the nightstand. Lifting up onto one elbow, Axel squinted heavily at the time, dropped his head with a soft groan, and kicked Demyx off the rest of the way, half sliding from the bed in his attempt to not disturb him too badly, landing awkwardly on his knees. He picked himself up from the carpet, clutching his cold phone tightly, and hobbled in a small circle before realising that all his clothing was out in his bags, next to the large window.

Clad in jeans, chest bare, Axel stumbled out of the bedroom, closed the door softly behind him, and promptly winced away from the enormous amounts of light pouring through the window. He pressed back against the door for a moment, rubbing at his eyes, before pushing away and staggering sightlessly through the sitting room, still crushing one eye with his palm. As he reached the bags, bending down to unzip one and rummage through, Roxas came sailing out of the bathroom, buttoning a white shirt, stopping abruptly at the sight of half-naked Axel hunched over. "Axel?"

Turning his head only slightly, the redhead hoarsely asked, "Rox, it's nine a.m. What the hell are you doing up already?" He stood, straightened, pulling a singlet over his head, stretching it around his waist and letting go, swiping his hands through his long spikes and holding them steady for a moment, bunched together as he yawned widely.

Roxas' soft chuckle forced his eyes open, blinking stupidly, still half-asleep. "I'd forgotten," the blond confessed, "how light a sleeper you are. Sorry for waking you." He said it with a smile, fondness in his expression as he regarded the tall, frowning figure across the room. "You can't get back to sleep?"

Axel grunted, released his hair and shook his head. "Nothing's changed since back then in _that _regard. I'm still jet-lagged as hell, too. Fuck." He yawned again, stumbled sideways and gripped the sofa to hold himself up. "Oh, Jesus." He wiped a hand over his face, mumbled, "You don't even have any decent food, do you?"

Roxas glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen, resumed buttoning slowly, and said uncertainly, "Uh, I think I have…"

"Naw, you don't," Axel interrupted heavily. "Me and Dem went through all the cupboards yesterday. We found crackers, we found cheese, we found vinegar. We also found a couple of mouldy ends from an old loaf of bread, but I chucked that out. You are _foodless, _Roxas."

"Unless you feel like crackers and cheese," the blond pointed out. Axel fixed him with a squinting glare.

"We already ate them all. Any grocery stores nearby?"

Roxas nodded, jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he flattened his collar. "Down that way. You come right across it as you're walking, so you won't get lost." He hesitated. "Do you guys, you know – have money?"

Axel rolled a smile his way. "Yes, Rox, we have money. We're not totally destitute yet. We've been saving as much as possible so we can put down a bond on a place somewhere crappy and out of the way."

Roxas grunted at this. "I don't know if I want you somewhere 'crappy and out of the way'. People in this city carry knives." He walked over towards the mahogany table beside the front door, saying, "I've been collecting the real estate magazines since you said you were coming, and I circled a few places you might be interested in." He pulled open a drawer and withdrew some glossy pamphlets, flapping them over his shoulder at the redhead. "Have a look through at some point and see if there's anything that catches your interest. Remember, you'll be getting the job at Blade, and I'm more than happy to float you a loan…"

Axel was waving his hands through the air in front of his face, trying to cut the blond off, an exasperated smile in place. When Roxas finally noticed and trailed off, he said, "Roxas. I appreciate that, I do, and if I feel like we have to, you'll be the first one I come to – but I doubt it's gonna happen, okay? We'll get what we can afford, and then, later on down the track if we can scratch together some more funds, we can always move, right?" He rolled his shoulders as Roxas sighed. "Anyway, you haven't even told me what you _want _from me at Blade." He regarded the blond dubiously, hands resting on hips, as Roxas placed the realtor magazines on the corner of the table. "It's a nice place, Rox. What exactly did you have in mind? I haven't waited before, I sure as hell can't cook to that standard, and, not to sound ungrateful or whatever, but I'm not looking forward to the thought of sweeping floors or some shit like that."

Avoiding his gaze, Roxas said, "Well – I was thinking, you can come to Blade later on, I've made sure we have an hour from two-thirty to three-thirty to go over it and fill out the various forms and contracts if you choose to take the job, work out your wage, that sort of thing. You come then, and I'll propose it to you formally."

Axel studied him for a moment. "Don't people usually know what they're applying for before they go in for an interview?"

Roxas flashed him a smile. "It's not an interview, idiot. You've already got it, as far as I'm concerned. It's just up to you if you want it or not."

Axel blinked at that, more surprised than ever. Roxas had already decided, without a doubt, that Axel had the job? He didn't want to discuss it, didn't want to ask questions about the last three years of work experience? Yeah, they'd caught up last night, and Axel had told him about the job he'd been holding down back in their hometown with Demyx at the local op-shop, as well as how it had gone at the busboy job he'd got just a couple months before Roxas had returned to the States, but they hadn't discussed it in terms of employer and employee – Axel had just told him the funny stories, the sad ones, the ones that had pissed him off and want to punch the shit out of something, had told him about the quirks of humanity that he'd encountered. Roxas knew _about _those jobs, but he didn't know what, if any, skills Axel had learned from them. And yes, he was aware that Axel worked _hard, _but that didn't mean he'd be any _good. _What could he possibly know, without a doubt, that Axel was capable of and worth paying to do?

The redhead frowned at him quizzically, but Roxas had already shrugged and got moving again, saying, "Anyway, if you go downstairs at two and catch a cab to the restaurant, I'll be waiting, okay? And come around the back, from the pool hall entrance – it's open to the staff during the day, it'll just be held shut by a doorstop. It's in this little alley that goes behind the restaurant, you'll find it easily."

"Wait – you're going already?"

Roxas glanced over, surprised, dragging his shoes out from under the black coffee table with a toe. "Oh, yeah. Man, things are wild there right now – I'm thinking of selling the place and opening a new restaurant somewhere else, and all the paperwork is totally hellish. And this is just the _research _phase." He shrugged, slipping his feet into the sneakers, bending to tie them quickly. "But, you know, I've been approached a couple times by people wanting to buy it, so I figured I'd at least consider it."

Cautiously, Axel asked, "Me and Dem, we're not… in the way, or anything, are we?"

Roxas sighed, straightened and smoothed his shirt down, fixing Axel with a patient look. "If I thought you were, I'd _say_ something. I told you, if I thought this arrangement would cause me any real difficulties, I wouldn't have asked you to stay – so stop worrying about it, and worry more about setting yourself up." He left the room, entered his own and grabbed his bag, emerging a minute later as Axel was pulling out a button-up shirt from one bag, hideously crinkled. He paused for a moment, watched the redhead scowl as he tried in vain to straighten the fabric, pulling it over his healthy frame, slender muscles obvious under the fair skin.

"It's funny," Roxas said abruptly, startling Axel, making him twist his head with wide, questioning eyes. "Seeing you here. I feel like I'm years younger, all of a sudden. I mean, it's not like I felt old, but I feel like a teenager again, having you around." He hesitated a little, then added, "I guess it's just funny in general. Seeing you standing there getting dressed – it's like nothing's changed, except for the fact that, well… _everything _has." He paused. "I'm having to learn how to act around you. I keep getting these flashes…" When shock appeared in Axel's gaze, the blond shook his head in frustration. "Ah, forget it. Never mind. I'm not… articulating properly." Keeping his face down, he threw the bag's strap over his neck, said, "I'll see you at the restaurant," and left the redhead standing there, brain locked in place.

--

"'I'm having to learn how to act around you, I keep getting these _flashes'?" _In his fur-lined coat, jeans and a t-shirt, Demyx followed Axel around the grocery store, carrying a red-wire basket, sneakers squealing loudly every now and then on the cold linoleum as they raided the large fresh-produce aisle. Axel grabbed a paper bag from beside the mushrooms, blew into it sharply, held it lightly on one palm while he started picking through the box of off-white fungi critically. "That's what he said," he confirmed. "And then I stared at him, and he muttered and left." He sighed, shook his head. "I mean, seriously, what am I meant to think after a statement like that?"

Demyx hummed thoughtfully, bumping the heavy basket against his knees. All around them, shoppers milled back and forth, a constant hum of conversation taking place over the sound of the nineties-hits radio station and the occasional loudspeaker announcement. "Well, from what I can tell, you can choose to take it one of two different ways. Way one – " He held up a finger. "Roxas is remembering the way you guys used to be, understandable seeing as how this is the first time you've been _near _each other since you broke up, and is finding all sorts of confusing feelings stirred up as a direct result." He pursed his lips, eyes rising to the ceiling. "He might even be wondering about the two of you starting up again, since you never broke up for any big reason in the first place, other than the separation factor of him coming back here. Now, all of a sudden you're both smack-bang in the same city again, both single, as far as you know. And, let's face it, you were wondering about it yourself on the train here, right? Hell, you've been wondering about it all week."

Axel sent him a side-long look as he scrunched the paper bag shut, now bulging with mushrooms, not entirely pleased at the blond's ability to see straight through him and into virtually every thought he ever conceived. "And column B?"

Demyx shrugged, adjusting his grip on the basket handles. Axel tucked the mushrooms into his own weighed-down basket, and the pair continued along. "There's always a chance that he's just trying to vocalise the way things are happening in his head. 'Flashes' could mean anything – flashes of emotion, flashes of memory, flashes of regret or even relief. He's been living by himself for a while now – it must be weird to come out in the morning and find the man you once loved getting dressed in the middle of the living room, when you're only used to the sound of your own footsteps. And he probably _is _having to learn how to act around you, just like you are around him – you've never been 'just friends'. You guys _both _have to figure out where you're coming from in regards to the relationship." They stopped, Axel picking up a red capsicum, Demyx continuing to speculate. "Yesterday was the first time in _three years _that you saw each other. It was kind of awkward, but he hugged you, right? He was happy to see you. Of _course _there's still _flashes _there – it's just a matter of the pair of you figuring out whether it means enough to, you know, fan the old flames back up, or start from somewhere fresh and uncomplicated!" He finally stopped, pleased with himself over such a long and winding theorising session.

Axel said, "That really didn't help at all."

Demyx scowled, before jumping a little, eyes widening as his phone buzzed in his pocket. Curiously, he fished the device out, flipped it open – and let out a choking sort of noise. Axel frowned. "What?"

"Z-Zexion! He messaged me!"

"The emo waiter?"

Demyx glared more heavily this time. "He's not _emo, _Axel. He hasn't dyed his hair black, and he doesn't go around wishing he was _dead."_

"No, he just frightens the bejesus out of you and makes you _think _you're dead," the redhead smirked, heading towards the dairy. Demyx tutted, hurried to keep up as he quickly tapped out a reply. "So, what does he want? I notice he hung around _you _a lot last night," Axel said slyly. Demyx's cheeks formed little pink stains, a pleased little grin working its way onto his features, failing to be suppressed.

"We talked," he admitted airily. "He's really easy to get on with. He's _nice."_

Axel shook his head with a smile. "And? Is he proposing yet, or what?"

Demyx rolled his eyes. "Yes, Axel, he proposed. Via text, no less. He also asked if you'll be flower-girl at the wedding."

"_Oh, _darling, I'd be _delighted," _the redhead trilled, flapping his eyelashes rapidly, spinning in place like a ballerina, nearly losing balance with the heavy basket swinging hard even after he'd stopped. People stared, and he, in turn, stared back until they went away.

Huffing a sigh, Demyx said, "He's just saying hi, that's all. We swapped numbers last night, and he said he'd text me sometime." He then gave a gleeful little noise, and added, "I just didn't think it'd be this soon!" Giddily, he trailed after Axel, falling further and further behind as he used up his word limit saying 'hi' back. By the time they'd made a full circuit of the store, Demyx's phone had buzzed a grand total of four times. The blond was just about falling over himself with delight.

"He's so _funny!" _he exclaimed, as they lugged their bags back to Roxas', Axel stuck with the majority of them so Demyx would have a hand free for his phone, which had now officially become the most dear thing in his life. Axel was pretty sure that, given a choice between his best friend and his Zexion-possessed cell phone, Demyx would have him out on his ass in a heartbeat, getting eaten by alligators in the rain or something. "He's got this awesome _wit, _Axel, I love it!"

"Yay, Zexion," the redhead weakly cheered. "He's not anally retentive, what a miracle!"

Demyx punched his shoulder. "Hey, come on, you liked him, too, admit it!"

Axel snorted. "I didn't like him like _you _like him."

The blond started to leer a little, dancing in front of him and generally getting in the way as he cooed, "No, you didn't, but there's someone _e-else, _isn't there? The certain someone who chased all his friends out of the basement so he could spend a little _time _with you? Time spent getting to _know _you, if you know what I mean?" He winked suggestively. Axel took a large step, tripped him deliberately, and hopped out of reach as Dem went down in a flailing of limbs. The groceries would be fine – it was all the heavier vegetables anyway.

"_Son-of-a-! _Ow, my frickin' ass!"

"Yeah, that's what _happens _when you get involved with someone too quickly," the redhead called back sagely, continuing on without a care in the world. "You get all excited, and then you end up with a sore ass."

"_You bastard, Axel!" _

They made it home without any further injury, although for a portion of the way, Demyx was limping heavily, muttering and glaring and texting Zexion, no doubt with tales about his horrible best friend. They greeted the doorman, a different guy this time, and caught the elevator back up to the sixth floor. It was still weird, being in Roxas' apartment by themselves – the previous day, hunting through the cupboards and refrigerator, they'd both felt hideously uncomfortable, like they were prying. Even with permission, it felt like he was going to come home and find them on their knees on the counter, with their heads in the high cupboards, and demand in appalled tones what the hell they thought they were doing. Every little noise had brought a guilty jump. Now, however, by putting in things that they had purchased, it felt a little easier, and it was good to not be depending so heavily on someone else.

They spread peanut butter on slices of white bread and ate standing up in the kitchen, too afraid to take anything that might smear or drop crumbs into the general living area – Axel's head ached trying to estimate what it would cost to get the upholstery steam-cleaned before Roxas could discover anything amiss. Good-bye, crappy apartment bond.

A sort of restlessness fell over Axel in the second half of the day, as Demyx happily curled into an armchair and continued the ongoing three-hundred-character-per-burst conversation with Zexion. The redhead sat on the sofa for a while, elbow on the arm, chin propped up and staring into space, flickerings of thought darting this way and that but nothing settling for long enough to be ruminated upon. Growing quickly tired of the little squeals Demyx kept making, the near-constant buzz of his phone, he eventually stirred himself enough to slouch over to the bags and root around for a careworn book. He hated this waiting around business – the minutes were ticking down to when he'd be able to go downstairs and catch the cab to Blade, but slowly, far too slowly to keep him from getting horribly bored.

At a quarter to two, Demyx's phone rang. Axel glanced up briefly as the blond gaped and gasped, gripping the arm of the armchair. "He – he's calling me!"

"Surely babies and growing old together come next," the redhead mumbled into his palm, turning a page in his book.

Breathlessly, Demyx answered, cutting the scale-dancing ringtone off mid-tune, joy shining on his face as he gasped, "Hello?" There was a pause, his expression changing twice, before he gave a sudden squawk of shock. "You _what?" _Green eyes ticked up sharply, narrow. Then Demyx shrieked, _"Pervert!" _and quickly shut the call off, looking traumatised.

"What'd he say?" Axel growled. Demyx shook his head wildly.

"It wasn't Zexion! It – he…!"

The redhead stiffened. "Well, then, who was it? What'd he _say, _Dem?"

The blond clammed up. "Nuh-uh, no way, I am _not _repeating what he said!" He was obviously repulsed, distressed, his ear having been aurally molested by some creepy asshole or another. Axel snarled as the phone started ringing again, Demyx crying out unhappily and stabbing at the button. Throwing his book away, Axel leaned forward, demanding, "Wait, Dem, give it here, I'll sort the fucker out."

"No, it's too late, I already turned it off!" Silence fell in the room, broken by Dem's unsteady breaths. "That – was so _gross," _he shakily exclaimed.

"Who the hell would have your number?" Axel asked. "Did you recognise the voice?"

He shook his head, lips pressing thinly together. "Mm-mh! Oh, man." He stood, went quickly into their room and threw his phone onto the bed. He then sighed. "Sorry, Zexion," he said mournfully. "I won't be replying for a while. Please don't think I hate you."

Axel snorted, following him to the door. "You just spent the entire morning talking to each other – he's not going to think you _hate _him, Dem, I think it'll be quite the opposite."

The blond turned, eyes sparking concern. "Do you think I've been too obvious?"

Axel sighed, a small smile reluctantly appearing. "Demyx, I think it's pretty obvious you like each other. He wouldn't be texting back so freaking much if he wasn't interested." He turned, walked back to the sofa, got out his own phone and checked the time.

"Yeah, but… maybe he's just really _friendly," _the blond worried, ghosting his steps. "Maybe he only messaged me because he _said _he would – he seems really reliable like that!"

Axel groaned, spun around, dropped his hands heavily on Demyx's shoulders and clamped the blond in place. "If he's reliable, than I'll say my hallelujahs now and get it over with, because it's about time you got interested in someone who isn't going to leave you hanging, okay?"

Demyx frowned at this, opened his mouth and sucked a breath as if to speak, then clicked his jaw shut again and started looking sulky. Axel dropped his head for a moment, hiding a grin, then lifted it again and asked, _"Now_ – do you want me to turn your phone back on and catch out whoever the hell called you before?"

Eyes widening, Demyx shook his head. "I don't think so. I just wanna… leave it alone, for a while. Hopefully the perv will go away if I'm not picking up."

"Either that, or he's filling your message-bank with creepiness as we speak," the redhead responded, fixing him with a pointed look. Demyx blanched.

"And now I _really _don't want to turn it back on! No way, Axel – just – just leave it, okay?"

Gazing at him for a long moment, Axel finally closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright, Dem, if that's the way you want to do it. But if he's still harassing you by the time I get back from Roxas' restaurant, I'm taking action, okay?" He bent at the knee, determinedly seeking his friend's averted gaze. "Can I do that?" Demyx sighed, agreed in a murmur. Axel ruffled his hair, let him go and went to get an apple, checking his phone again. By the time he finished it and got his shoes on, it'd be time to go see Roxas, and find out what this job was all about.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Yay, I love working on this story, even if it's just the notes. Haha, I'd like to thank everyone for the fantastic support with it, too, I know that there's a lot of people who won't be reading it due to the lack of AkuRoku, so those who are, and who are reviewing, I LOVE YOU. Also, I apologise for the slight slowness of this chapter :S

--

CHAPTER FOUR

At a quarter past three, Reno's phone rang, startling him out of a nap. His head jerked off the arm of the sofa, eyes springing gummily apart, hand already reaching for the device on the coffee table beside him, fumbling it up and pressing a button. He held it to his ear, mumbling, "Yeah?"

"…Sounds like I woke you up."

Reno inhaled hard enough to choke on some spit, sitting up sharply, coughing out, _"Axel! Hi!"_

"Yeah. If this is a bad time, I can hang up, though."

"No!" The redhead cleared his throat loudly, punched a fist against his chest and took a deep breath. "No, it's cool, I'm fine. I didn't really expect you to call, that's all. And, look, about coming off as stalker-creepy to your friend –"

"It's okay, I think I understand."

"– it was just a _pool reference, _he _completely _misunderstood.I'm really not some kind of perv," he laughed, with a hint of anxiety. Then, upon further thought, evidently recovering from the shock of being woken by the most recent object of his desires, he added, with a cocky grin the other red-haired man couldn't see, "Not unless you _want_ me to be, that is."

There was a pause from Axel's end of the line. "…Right… Look –"

"And it was Roxas' fault in the first place," Reno hastened to explain, at the lack of humour in the other's voice. "He gave me the wrong number."

Another hesitation from Axel, before he said tersely, "I don't want to talk about Roxas right now." Reno blinked. _"Listen,_ I was wondering, you're friends with Cloud, right? Could you give me his number?"

Reno's lips pursed, an eyebrow arching, automatically glancing around for Rude. "Well, yeeah… but you're staying with Roxas, aren't you? Can't you just ask –?"

"I'd really rather not," Axel interrupted shortly, and slowly, Reno's brain started grinding into gear. Axel's voice – it didn't have that same easy quality Reno had gone nuts over the night before, and he was starting to realise it had nothing to do with his little mix-up with the emo-waiter's crush. "…Okay, Axel. Just – give me a second."

The redhead wiped a hand over his face, frowning and getting up from the sofa. He slouched through the apartment in his jeans, pressing the cell phone to his bare collarbone, calling, "Rude! You around?"

"No," came the muffled reply from the bathroom. Reno made a beeline for the door, knocked with one knuckle.

"Do you have your phone with you? Like, right-now-quickly?"

A moment later, the door opened, a freshly-showered Rude, towel wrapped around his waist, holding out his steam-misted phone. "I thought I said I wasn't home," he pointed out, hitching the towel higher.

"Yeah, about that," Reno replied distractedly, already opening the address book and scrolling through, "you need more practice at that whole 'lying' thing, buddy." He turned his back on the radiating heat of the bathroom, wandered back into the middle of the sitting room, lifting his own phone back up. "You still there, Axel?"

"Still here," the redhead confirmed, with a bite of impatience.

"Okay." Reno read the number from Rude's phone, before asking, "Do you have anywhere to write that down?" He could hear thick traffic in the background of the call, Axel obviously out and about somewhere populated – and wanting _Cloud _of all people?

"Yeah, it's fine, I put it on my arm. Thanks, Reno, I owe you one." With that out of the way, a layer of warmth entered his tone as he said, "And – don't worry about Dem. You only traumatised him enough to want to clean his ear out once or twice. I'll be sure to let him know it was a 'pool reference'."As Reno chuckled weakly, he said,"Catch you round, Reno."

"Ah –!" Reno was cut off by the sound of the dial tone, buzzing and forbidding, every suave conversation topic and invitation to dinner dying and withering in his chest, before he'd even drawn enough breath to try and push them out suitably seductively. "Hey, so, wanna come back to my place?" he asked to the dead receiver. "No? Oh. Well. Fuck." He finished his end of the call, tucking the phone into his jeans and sitting back down heavily, arms hanging down between wide-spread legs. The bathroom door opened, and Rude emerged fully-dressed.

"I'm going to the store. We've got work in three hours, remember."

Reno waved his hands irritably at the man. "Yeah, yeah, I didn't forget."

Rude, heading for the apartment's front door, paused in the middle of doing up his shirt-cuff. "Who was on the phone?"

Reno sighed, fluttered a couple of fingers. "Oh, no one. Just the man of my sloppy dreams, looking for _Cloud."_

"Oh?" Rude came over, held out one thick-knuckled paw, Reno sulkily handing the cell phone back. "He learns fast. Looks like he knows who to go to when the nearby blond kid is verbally molested."

Glaring, Reno tightened his grip on the small black phone for a moment longer than necessary, forcing Rude to wrestle it free, long, pale fingers bouncing into fists which he tucked under his arms, slumping back petulantly. Rude rapped the edge of the device against the side of his friend's head. "Put on a shirt and come for the ride, you need to haul your share of the groceries."

"Yeah, like the beer and the beer," the redhead groused. "Oh, and the beer. And I might buy some beer to drown my _loneliness." _

Rude snorted a laugh. "Lonely. You."

"Hey, I might be," Reno argued, pulling himself up along the side of the couch. "I might be feeling _bereft _now, and you'd _really _look like some kind of callous asshole for laughing at me, wouldn't you?"

"Shirt, Reno," Rude reminded, heading for the door, keys already jingling. "I'm waiting four minutes, then I'm leaving without you. And _I won't _be buying any beer."

He began to close the apartment door on the sounds of Reno's muttering as the redhead went in search of something clean to throw on, before the lanky man suddenly came lunging over, yelling, _"Rude!" _

Rude sighed, called through the gap, "Just put on a dirty one, Reno."

One pale blue eye appeared, eyebrow raised. "No, I wasn't gonna – well, sweet, fine, but – hey, I was thinking… If I drive, can you call Cloud for me?"

--

Clutching the real estate magazine Roxas had picked up for him, magic marker tucked into his back pocket, Axel mounted the last few steps to the blond's office, knuckles dragging along the close walls. The time was two-twenty-five, and as the redhead approached the wooden door of Roxas' office, fist rising to lightly knock, he became aware of raised voices on the other side. Frowning, he hesitated, twisted his head to hear a little better, able only to make out the fact that it was a _jumble _of voices.

He hovered uncertainly for a moment, then shrugged and knocked anyway. There was a sudden lull from within, before Roxas' weary voice called, "Come on in, Axel."

The redhead entered cautiously, throwing glances at the other occupants of the room. He recognised the maitre d', Yuffie, but the woman with the long braid and the guy with the wavy spikes were a mystery. Cradling his brow on his fingertips, looking about ten years older with that one small gesture, Roxas waved him in tiredly. "Hey, sorry, this'll only take a couple more minutes, okay? Just – Hayner, get up and let Axel sit down."

"Hell, no," the blond snapped, fingers wrapping tight around the arms as if prepared to cling for dear life. "I'm not going anywhere until we've sorted this out properly!"

"Is there – a problem?" Axel asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly at Roxas. "I can always come back…" The boy shook his head dismissively.

"No, it's cool. Just…"

"Come stand by me and Aerith, kid," Yuffie invited, patting the wall between the two women. "Hayner, say hello to Axel!"

The guy with the dirty-blond hair tipped his head over the back of the chair, regarding Axel from an upside-down position, resentfully greeting, "Hey. I'm Hayner. I'm a supplies manager for Blade… among _others," _he scowled, lifting his head again and shooting Roxas a narrow look. "You know, all those _other _restaurants that happen to want to be able to serve their customers food as _well?"_

"What we're asking isn't unreasonable," Roxas attempted to reason.

"Are you kidding me? You're asking me to go out of my way to make Blade my first stop, despite the fact that it's third down the list!" He sat forward, hand splayed on his chest, and said distinctly, _"I don't have that luxury, Rox." _

"It's not that far out of your way, though," Yuffie argued loudly from beside Axel. "You only have to go a couple _streets _out of your way, and you and Roxas are _friends – _shouldn't friends come before clients?"

Hayner laughed harshly. "I don't know, Yuffie, let me ask my boss – if I still have my _job _at the end of the day, I guess the answer's a yes!"

"It's becoming too difficult to properly plan our menus, Hayner," Roxas said hotly. "The Briar Rose's manager is a bitch who deliberately takes her time, you know that. And then, by the time we _do _get our pick of the wares, they're just about wilting!"

"So, I'll turn up the refrigeration unit, I already told you I would," the blond growled.

Axel sighed, turned his head to look out the window, found himself eye to eye with the green-eyed woman with the braid. She smiled sweetly, tipped her head a little to the side, and said in a naturally soft voice, "Hi, there, Axel – I'm Aerith. I'm the head chef here at Blade. I heard Roxas is offering you a job – pretty soon, you'll be part of the family."

Axel threw a look sideways at the bickering, Yuffie moving forward to involve herself more aggressively. "Well – maybe."

Aerith laughed quietly. "Don't worry about this little scene – please don't judge Yuffie or Hayner for their behaviour. Hospitality is a very competitive business, and the company Hayner works for sells very high quality fresh food directly to all us restaurants, straight from the back of a van. Hayner visits us every day with more to choose from, but…" She shrugged delicate shoulders. "We've just been having a little difficulty lately planning our set courses around Hayner's busy schedule."

"It's not just 'a little difficulty'," Yuffie interjected, having overheard the last segment of the woman's explanation. The short, dark-haired woman twisted, arms folded stubbornly over her chest, declaring, "It's that _witch_ Maleficent, she does it on purpose,and this little toad lets it happen."

She slapped the back of Hayner's head, the blond yelping and reaching for the injured site, Roxas sharply reprimanding, "Yuffie! Christ, do you wanna get us sued?"

"I don't have a choice, okay?" Hayner yelled at her, flaring. "Jesus, what, am I just supposed to shut the fucking doors on her fingers and tell her her time's up?!"

"_Maybe!" _the undeterred maitre d' shouted, arms waving through the air. "Hell, she could _do _with the manicure, she's sporting _claws _these days!"

"_Okay!" _Roxas stood abruptly, hands cutting through the air, reaching the end of his tether. "That's enough for now, I can't take anymore of the hysteria, okay? From _anyone."_

"Yeah, especially you, Aerith," Hayner threw over his shoulder. The woman smirked and rolled her eyes silently.

"We are _officially _overlapping into the time I had reserved for Axel's interview," Roxas continued, pulling back his sleeve to confirm this on his watch. "It's bad enough that his introduction to Blade has to be _this, _butif we go any longer we're gonna scare him off completely."

"In that case, consider it unresolved," Hayner said bluntly, pushing off the chair's wooden arms and standing in front of the blond's desk.

"Fine!" Roxas snapped irritably, flapping a hand at him and sitting back. "It was just sinking further into bullshit, anyway. But _think _about it, at least, okay? It's killing us."

Hayner snorted. "Oh, sure, Blade's practically going under right before my eyes." He headed for the door, waving shortly to Axel. "Nice to meet you, man." Yuffie followed him downstairs, grumbling audibly, Aerith giving him an apologetic look, before saying softly, "Roxas, I'll send someone up with cappuccinos, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, thanks, Aerith," the blond replied tiredly. She closed the door with a careful _click, _leaving the two males alone. Roxas dragged his hands through his spikes, shooting Axel a cringing sort of smile. "Uh, hi. Welcome to the behind-the-scenes of Blade. We're all kind of… nuts."

"I definitely hadn't noticed," the redhead replied, amused. "You all seem so _normal. _And – _rational." _

"Oh, that's us," the blond said wearily, "cool under fire." He gestured Axel over. "Sit down, the coffees should be up pretty soon. Which reminds me – you want a coffee?"

Chuckling, Axel sat, flattening the real-estate magazine against his thighs. "I wouldn't say no to a freebie." Easing back in his chair, an elbow propping on the arm as his long legs stretched out in front, the redhead smirked. "So, being the boss of this place seems like a real cushy job."

"Oh, sure," Roxas agreed, "it's why I regularly try to smother myself with all the paperwork that finds its way to my desk." Then he smiled. "It's unholy that I enjoy this sort of life, isn't it?"

"Completely," Axel grinned. The blond nodded down at his legs.

"Been looking at apartments?"

Axel glanced down at the magazine, lifted one shoulder with a sigh. "I guess. I was checking them out in the cab on the way over. Since you managed to find like, the one apartment a good half-hour away from your place of business, I figured I'd take some reading material, and your bathroom was fresh out of porn, so…"

Blue eyes rolled. "And? Find any you like?"

Eyebrows rising, lips pursing, Axel glanced down at it and laughed, "Eh – well, yeah, _yeah, _I saw a _lot _I liked – but I have yet to find one me and Dem have a hope in hell of _affording. _Your mag's a little upper crust for the likes of us."

Roxas blinked. "But… it's for the lower-middle socio-economic financial bracket."

Axel barked his amusement. "Yeah, me and Dem, we're more your incredibly suave and intelligent upper-middle-lower, kinda-down-and-to-the-left-a-little socio-economic financial bracket. I mean, if we're going to be technical about it and all."

Roxas frowned a little, leaning forward. "So, like, you mean – _knife country." _He shook his head, insisting, as the redhead chuckled, "I'm not kidding, Axel!" Spreading his hands on the desk, giving him a beseeching look, he asked, "At least let me help you out a little, _please. _I would _love _to. It's not exactly going to _break _me."

Rubbing one eye, brushing the tattoo beneath it briefly with his fingertip, Axel took a breath and rested a cheekbone on his knuckles, returning Roxas' gaze patiently. "…Don't look at me like that," he warned after a moment. "It's not gonna work on me, Roxas." He smiled tolerantly when the blond scowled. "I told you already, we really don't need it. I appreciate the thought, though." Then, straightening, he clapped his hands together, the dry sound ringing out clearly, reminding him, "Besides, if you've got a job lined up for me, who knows? We could shift up in the world a little, be more of a down-and- to-the-_right _class.I know Dem's had his eye on that for a while, social-climbing little bitch that he is." Rolling the real estate magazine up in both hands, bouncing it a little on his knees, he asked, "So, what am I doing here, Rox? You've upheld the mystery successfully so far – I'm ready to have the shocking truth revealed." Raising a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and affecting an expression of great concentration, he said quickly, "No, wait; let me read your mind with my latent psychic powers… Oh, oh, I'm getting something…" His brows twitched together. "You're paying me a thousand bucks a week to – oh, you smart businessman, you're making me perform midnight strip-teases, aren't you?"

Roxas lifted his gaze heavenward. "Yes, that's right. We shut down at eleven, then re-open an hour later as a strip club." He pointed over to the potted palm sitting in the corner of the room, by the window, saying earnestly, "I – I actually have this hidden lever that I pull? And it turns all the furniture upside-down, revealing their cigarette-burnt surfaces and this whole series of diamante-encrusted _everything." _

Axel nodded. "Yep. I knew it. Always knew the inner smut entrepreneur would break out eventually." They laughed a little, each shaking his head, Axel perching his elbows on his knees and propping his chin up. "Okay, so how come I'm here – you get to actually tell me, this time."

Roxas quieted down, and slowly, his expression changed, a glint of calculation entering his narrowed eyes as he sat back. He crossed an ankle over his knee, picking up a pen and resting the bridge of his nose on it, eyeing the redhead over the top of the plastic cylinder. It was such a complete about-face from his previous mood that Axel was intrigued, almost against his will. He got a slight flicker of uncertainty – he'd rarely seen this look on Roxas, but it usually ended up with the blond getting precisely what he wanted, when he wanted it. It had been a long time since he'd witnessed anything like it.

"Let's… wait for the cappuccinos to get here," he said, frustratingly. Axel ran a hand over his head.

"And the suspense, it builds," he quipped, a little sharply. "At this rate, I'll be turning up for work three times a week and won't even know what I do with myself."

With a smirk, Roxas asked, "If you ended up with money in the bank at the end of the day, would it really bother you that much?"

Inhaling through his nose, Axel shot him a bland smile. "I guess you know my weakness. That whole 'paying the rent self-sufficiently' deal."

"I guess," Roxas replied neutrally, "I do."

Axel hesitated, inspecting his inscrutable features with some puzzlement. Why did this suddenly feel like some kind of loaded chess-match? Or a fun round of Russian Roulette?

Luckily, it wasn't long before one of the kitchen's minions came up with the small-handled cups on saucers, cheerfully setting them on Roxas' desk, closing the door again on the smell of coffee beans and thick swirls of steam rising from artfully arranged foam. With nowhere left to run, Roxas calmly plucked up his drink, scooped a gap in his froth and took a sip. He flinched, almost imperceptibly, and Axel gave a hard smile.

"It's too hot, huh?" Mouth twisting to one side, he admitted, "I've gotta say, you've got my curiosity at an all-time high right now, Rox. You seem almost reluctant to tell me what my job is. What, am I the shit-scraper? Do the people that frequent your restaurant need someone to flush the toilets for them? Do I lick their shoes so they don't dirty your spotless floors?"

"…No," the blond said, setting his cup back down, lips a little red. He licked them, gaze stuck on the coffee, before lifting his eyes to Axel's, holding them steadily. "I have a good opportunity for you. A well-paying, regular job, with hours I think would suit you. You get to interact with people, you'd be here until after closing time each night, which means you'd be able to probably score a free dinner most nights from the kitchen as they're cleaning up."

Thinking this over, Axel responded, "Well, I don't see the downside yet. Am I the… pool-cue bluer-er?"

"No," Roxas pounced shrewdly, "but you're pool-_related." _

Laughing a little in annoyance, he asked, "So, what next, you gonna break out the Pictionary and see if I can guess that way? Maybe draw a little squiggle with red hair sucking beer-spills off the tables?"

The blond drew a breath, continued to hold Axel's eyes as if looking away would demonstrate some hint of twinging conscience as he said, "I need you to bounce for me."

For a long moment, Axel said nothing. "…You don't mean in the 'on the spot' sense, do you?"

"We've had some trouble lately with the late crowd in the pool hall," Roxas explained. "Not to mention people sneaking down there through the restaurant when none of the staff is paying attention. Up until now, people have had to go to the host to pay for games, but it's just not working out." He shrugged. "Things have got too busy. That worked when we were still making a name for the restaurant, but we've done it now, and things need to change."

Dragging his mouth slackly over his knuckles with a deep frown, Axel stared down at the delicate pattern carved into the foam of his coffee. Past his fingers, he asked, "Be specific. What would be required of me?"

"For twenty-four bucks an hour, from eight o'clock to eleven, you'd be required to sit at a station we're going to build for you and charge people entrance to the pool hall, stamping their hands so they can get back in upstairs when they go down from the restaurant." Roxas paused, waited, continued when Axel said nothing, "After the restaurant closes for the night, you'd go downstairs and do the same from the outside door until one a.m., with the added purpose of keeping the guys who've been drinking for a while under control, making sure nobody sneaks their friends in or goes out to piss on the side of the building and wanders back in." He added levelly, "It's really very straightforward, and suited to your life-skills. After all, you're good with people, you have physical confidence, you don't take bullshit –"

"And I pack a mean left-hook, right?" Axel interjected with a bitter smile. The curve of his lips was brief and false, slipping away instantly as he regarded Roxas with seriousness bordering on resentment. Quietly, he asked, "Are you seriously asking this of me, Roxas? You want me to play crowd control for a bunch of drunken frat kids and assholes?"

"Our cliental aren't drunken frat kids and assholes," the blond said stiffly. "They're just regular people, like you and me. Sometimes, they drink a little more than they should, and issues arise."

"You said you've 'had some trouble lately with the late crowd', Rox," Axel returned sharply. "That's not making me think you want me around to correct bad fucking language and inappropriate noise levels. You want me to _bounce, _you want me as your _bouncer, _the guy that throws other guys out on their asses when they're being shit-heads – right? I mean, do you have a different definition for me?" He picked up his coffee, took a swig of it, swiped the froth off his top lip with his tongue and glared over at the blond. Anger was rising slowly under his skin, dampened only by the overpowering disbelief he was feeling.

Roxas paused, then said, "No, I guess I don't. But you've put it crudely, Axel, it won't be like a crazy nightclub. Hell, you'll probably experience more difficulty in a week in the area you want to rent an apartment in than you'll have in half a month here at Blade." Meeting the redhead's gaze with calm determination, he observed, "I can see you getting pissed off with me."

Leaning in sharply, Axel hissed, "Are you surprised? You want me to be able to _fight _for you as my living."

"It won't be that dramatic," Roxas replied flatly. "You're over-reacting. Besides, I trust you – otherwise I wouldn't have asked." Blue eyes narrowed. "I'm not asking you to box people into submission. I just need someone who can handle themselves – you _can, _without a doubt, and what's more, if someone _does _cause trouble, I know for a _fact, _without a single scrap of doubt, that you could incapacitate them without anyone gaining a single bruise."

"I hate to be the bearer of _reality,"_ Axel snapped, grip tightening on the arms of the chair, just like Hayner had before him, "but it's been years since I've fought, remember? I'm not exactly the sharp-shooter I once was. What are you _thinking, _offering me a job like this?"

Pushing a thumb across his forehead, Roxas muttered, frustration evident, "You're taking this entirely the wrong way. I'm not asking you to fight for me, or do anything you're uncomfortable with. You're fast, and strong, and co-ordinated. You're firm, and if someone fucks around, you put them in place. This is what I was thinking when I thought of you for it." Closing his eyes briefly, he said, more forcefully, "You'll just be stamping hands, dealing with cash, and keeping things easy. There's no nightly brawls or anything over-the-top – just regular stuff needing controlling, needing proper attention to keep in line." Inhaling deeply, he lifted his chin, spread his hands and said, "But if you don't feel capable of taking a job like this without inevitably hurting someone badly, then you're right, I've obviously got the wrong guy for the job. I'll look elsewhere."

Spluttering, Axel shifted to the edge of his seat, before arguing, "Just – just wait a fucking second, would you? God, Roxas – you spring this on me, what do you expect my reaction to be?"

"I am an employer," the blond said succinctly, "seeking the best employee I can get, to allow my business to function at its smoothest. _That _is what I was thinking, offering you a job like this." He opened one of the desk-drawers, pulling out several sheets of paper stapled at one corner. "I have all the necessary documents here to hire you on the spot, Axel. All we have to do is sign them all, and you've officially got a decent-paying job, the same sort that people all over the city have at a lot of different locations without any lasting difficulty whatsoever."

A full minute passed, during which Axel stared hard at the papers, the pen in Roxas' hand, without a word. The blond, for his part, merely waited patiently to see what the outcome would be.

"…I'm not happy," Axel said softly, at last.

"Then I'll get someone else," Roxas replied bluntly. "It's not a problem. I'm not forcing you into anything you don't want."

"Twenty-four bucks an hour?" the redhead retorted. "You're offering me _twenty-four bucks an hour, _the highest-paying job I've ever been offered, and you can sit there with a straight face and tell me you're not _forcing _me?"

"There's more to life than money."

"Says the cold businessman," Axel rejoined sharply. "I preferred you as my boyfriend, I think."

"Yeah, well, you would, wouldn't you?" A corner of Roxas' mouth lifted. "On the job, you can't have random sex in doorways." Axel glowered down at the papers, unamused, another tight moment passing. Roxas sighed. "Look, obviously this is bothering you a lot more than I thought it would. Forget it, then, okay? I don't know. I just thought it was a good idea. I didn't mean to upset you." He picked the papers up, getting ready to put them brusquely away, when Axel reached out and grabbed the top of them, stopping him.

"I need it," he said curtly. "I need the money, and it's a good job. The most qualification Dem has is working in a goddamn thrift store, and if the people round here are as knife-friendly as you think, then yeah, we're gonna need some fucking money." Eyes burning, he added quietly, "And don't you offer me a fucking loan again, Roxas. I don't want it." He snatched the pen out of the blond's hand, Roxas opening and closing his fingers a few times around the suddenly empty air.

"…Right. You'll take it, but you'll hate it?"

"I'll do what I'm paid to do," the redhead muttered, flipping the papers around and quickly scanning them, before clicking the pen down and signing where necessary. "After all, that's all you want, right?" He finished quickly, with a flourish, shoving it all back across. "Now you just need to sign your parts. I'm hired."

Roxas eyed him for a moment, shrugged. "Fine. Welcome aboard. Once I've got your bank and tax details, we'll discuss your schedule and you can go."

"Sure thing, Boss," Axel said dully. "Lay it on me."

The next twenty-five minutes passed at a drag, Axel's anger thinning, hardening, cooling but remaining present, wound tight inside his chest. He kept darting glances over at the blond, newly wary of this person he'd thought he'd known – because evidently, he didn't really know jack-shit about Roxas the Restaurant Owner. Roxas the Business Student Studying Abroad – would he have been capable of this? It felt – remarkably like being used.

Gradually, the meeting drew to its conclusion, Axel having withdrawn into himself, coming out only to answer direct questions. Roxas didn't appear to have a huge problem with his behaviour, as long as he played along, and pretty soon, things wrapped up with time to spare.

Eyeing him off, Roxas said, "Well, that's it, then. You're officially part of the restaurant. I'm glad, even if you aren't yet. It'll work out, Axel."

Smiling thinly, Axel replied, "Yeah, Roxas. Sure it will. Thanks for helping." He stood, gathering the several carbon copies Roxas had provided for him, tucking them into his magazine. "I'll see you back at your place, later I guess," he said distantly. "Me and Dem are maybe gonna check out the nightlife a little tonight, see how things around this city happen."

"Well, give me a call if you need to be picked up," Roxas offered. "I can send a taxi out."

Hesitating, Axel said, "…No, that's alright. We're pretty big boys, these days; we take care of ourselves."

He left Roxas in his office, closing the door carefully, realising only at the bottom of the stairs that he'd left his coffee unfinished. Demyx, ever Axel's teacher in the art of scoring and hoarding free shit, would have been disgusted.

Axel passed through the kitchen, throwing Yuffie a half-hearted wave as she went bustling past. He exited through the propped-open double doors, crossing the restaurant with his free hand in his pocket, frown growing deeper the further away from Roxas he got. He descended the steps to the basement-cum-pool hall, the tables empty and silent, and stepped out through to the street, into the cool air.

The sounds of traffic washed over the redhead, as he stood for a moment, eyebrows drawn down and together, taking a deep, unsteady breath. Fingers wrapping around his phone, he pulled it out and turned it on, having shut it down for the duration of the meeting. Instantly, a series of messages came through – missed calls from Demyx.

Scowling with sudden concern, he speed-dialled the blond's number, listened to it ring. _"Axel!" _came the tinny shout from the other end.

Heart thudding, he demanded, "What? What's happened?"

"It was that guy from last night! The creepy caller, it was that – Reno guy. Jesus, he sounds like such a hooker."

Jaw dropping, Axel coughed out, _"Reno? _He's the one that freaked you out so bad?" He was silent for a moment, then growled, _"Right. _You're giving me his number, and I'm gonna call him."

"Well, yeah! But, also, no."

Axel closed his eyes. "What do you mean, _no?"_

"Well – it so happens, he thought _I _was _you," _Demyx related sceptically. "I turned my phone on, right? To see if Zexion had left me any messages."

"I'll bet it was a long ten minutes after I walked out the door, right?"

"Very. Anyway – so, there was another call, he'd tried a couple times, and I figured I'd follow your example and tell him where to stick it… Then, I'm mid-insult, and he starts yelling his name at me.And naturally, I remembered it… and he tells me Roxas sent him the wrong number, he was trying to call _you, _but I don't know, Axel…"

"You think he was lying?" the redhead asked.

"No, no…" Demyx assured him. "I just think he's pretty creepy and gross. I mean… he started talking about his _balls… _I don't know _who _I wish he was trying to call now, because I sure don't want him talking to _you _like that." Sympathetically, he added, "It sounds like you sprung a perv there, buddy."

"He – he _what? _He…" Axel broke off, pressing the real estate magazine against his forehead. He thought hard for a moment. "So – this most recent call, did he _want _anything, or was he just desperately trying to recover by this point?"

"Well, he wanted your number, but I wouldn't give it to him, and apparently Roxas switched off his phone, so he couldn't ask _him _again."

"…And earlier… what did he _say _about his balls, exactly?" the redhead asked suspiciously.

"That…" Demyx was silent for a moment, obviously reliving the horror. "That he… _Oh, my God, I can't say it."_

"Demyx," Axel warned.

Taking a deep breath, the blond blurted, _"Fine, _he said that after you left last night, he – he knocked around _his striped balls and thought about you." _He shrieked miserably at having to recount it. Axel could tell he was moments away from throwing the phone down. The redhead, after getting over the slight shock, was now battling between continuing irritation with Roxas, and a rising bubble of laughter in his chest.

"Okay, okay, Dem! Demyx, _calm down. _I –"

"_Are you laughing?"_

"No, no I'm – I'm definitely not laughing. _No." _He inhaled deeply, cleared his throat, said, "Okay, I'm pretty sure there's been a misunderstanding. Listen, Dem…"

"A misunderstanding about _his balls, _Axel."

"Can you give me Reno's number? Did you write it down somewhere?"

There was a long pause from Demyx. "What, are you _serious? _You want to actually _call _this guy?"

Axel hung his head, groaning faintly. "Dem… Look, I really… need to talk to Cloud, okay?"

"…Cloud?" The blond was confused. "Hey, wait, that reminds me – how did your interview go with Roxas? What's the job?"

Axel sighed, saying with perfect sobriety now, "Can you just – get me Reno's number? So that I can get Cloud's off him? Reno told me that they know each other, and… I need to talk to him, pretty urgently."

"Is everything okay with Roxas?" Demyx asked cautiously. Axel could hear him moving around, obviously going to wherever he'd distastefully scribbled the number down.

Axel shook his head, looking up and down the street, wandering up the hill towards the main road, along which Blade's entrance sat. Grimacing, he said, "Things are… _weird _with Roxas."

"What's the job?"

"The number, Dem."

Voice sharpening, the blond demanded, "What's the _job, _Axel?"

There was just… no getting anything past Demyx. He knew every facet of his best friend's voice. He knew when Axel was disturbed. Resignedly, the redhead revealed, "…Bouncer for the pool hall."

Demyx's voice was flat. "Bouncer. For the pool hall."

"Pay's good, hours are good, I get a few days off each week, but for a while I'll be working every Friday and Saturday night."

"All you have to do is sell your soul, though, right?" Demyx scoffed.

Axel swallowed, glanced down towards Blade, turned in the opposite direction and set off aimlessly down the street. "Got that number yet?"

"Did you _accept _the job?" Demyx asked suspiciously.

"_Jesus, _how many times am I going to have to ask for Reno's fucking number before I'm fifty?" the redhead snapped.

"…You got a pen?"

Axel brought out the marker from his pocket, uncapped it between his teeth, and scribbled down the numbers as Demyx said them. "Okay, I don't know when I'll be back, soon-ish, hopefully," he muttered around the pen lid, solidifying the numbers so they wouldn't immediately rub away. He sighed, spat it out onto his palm. "Sorry, Dem. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Take care," the blond said distantly. Axel ended the call, lifted up his freshly inked arm, and dialled anew.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Leon's car from Water makes a surprise cameo, because I had difficulty thinking of him with anything _but _that clunker. He strikes me as the sort of guy who refuses to buy a new car when his current one _works, _damn it. When it's crumpled corpse is towed away, _that's _when it's time to trade in.

PS, Yes, I left it at rather a shitty place… but that whole next bit is like a _chapter's _worth! :P

--

CHAPTER FIVE

Axel was sitting at a booth by himself in the café around the corner from Blade. Cloud had given him directions to it, and told him he'd meet him shortly.

The redhead was slowly massaging his forehead as his eyes continued to scour the real estate magazine, stuck for anything else to do. He had the marker out again, and was steadily crossing out all the ones which were completely out of his and Dem's range, creating a few hopeful, half-hearted circles around the very distant 'maybes'.

He'd continue to stay with Roxas for now, of course he would – but he was suddenly feeling a lot less easy than he previously had been. Before it was like – you know, okay, they're staying with this guy Axel hasn't even seen in years, but it's _Roxas – _everything will be cool. Axel _knew _Roxas, he'd known him more intimately than he'd known anyone in his entire goddamn _life. _

Except now it was more like… they were staying with this guy Axel hadn't even seen in years, and – somehow, time had changed him. It was a startling revelation, disheartening, especially when the redhead started to actually contemplate the job he'd taken on. It made him feel kind of sick. He didn't know what to do about it, and that was where Cloud came into things.

While Axel restlessly perused the apartments for rent, the older blond entered the café's open doors, looking windswept and breathless from the ride. His eyes quickly scanned the various occupants of the place, finding the redhead, striding over to him with a puzzled smile. Stripping off his gloves, tucking them away, he stopped in front of the table, Axel taking a couple moments to realise he was there, lifting his face up from his fist and staring blankly for a second. "Cloud – hey."

"What can I get you, Axel?" the blond asked, making Axel's brows twitch together.

"Oh, it's okay, I already ordered a coffee…"

Smiling a little, Cloud shook his head, explained, "Actually, I've got this marked down as a delivery – for tax purposes and that sort of thing – so I need to pick something up for you to make it official." He chuckled. "I deliver take-out to businesses sometimes, so it counts. What can I get you?"

Axel's brain locked up. "Uh…"

"Look, they make blueberry muffins the size of your skullhere – I'll get you one of those, okay? You like blueberry, right?"

"S-sure," the redhead stammered, and in the next instant, Cloud was gone. Axel could hear him over at the counter placing the order, waving aside the waitress's attempts to put it onto a plate, insisting on having it put into a bag. The girl did as bidden, and a minute later, the man returned with a crinkle of brown paper.

Again, he paused at the edge of the table, Axel watching his every motion with faint bemusement as he leaned over towards the window, fingers fumbling at the napkin dispenser. He managed to tear a wad of them free, straightened and opened the little bag, shoving them carefully around the muffin before folding it back over.

"Okay!" he said at last, tossing it onto the table and finally sitting across from the redhead. "It's my treat, so enjoy it. If you're not hungry, take it home and share it with your friend."

"I… thanks," Axel replied helplessly. "That was… nice of you, and – strange."

Cloud shrugged, leaning back in the booth seat. "It looks good on the books. Speaking of which, we've got twenty minutes before I have to get going again, so make it count." Curiously, he said, "You sounded pretty urgent on the phone – you'd have to be to think of calling _Reno _to get my number. But, you know, I'll help however I can, I guess. What's the issue that was so important you had to talk to me?"

Axel frowned, lips twisting, reached up to tug at his earlobe and suddenly gave a slight, bewildered laugh. "I don't even…" He returned to frowning, Cloud quickly mimicking the expression. "Cloud – did you know that Roxas was offering me a job at his restaurant?" he ventured, glancing up at the man.

Cloud hesitated, nodded. "Well, yeah. He told me he was thinking of it when he said you were coming to stay. He was trying to think of where you'd fit into the scheme of things – he didn't think you'd want to be a busboy again, even the more glorified type that works at Blade. We haven't spoken about it since, though – is that what this is about?"

Axel laughed again, an abrupt sound. "Yeah. He actually came up with a totally perfect job for me, man – he's got me playing guard dog for the pool hall. I'm Blade's new, official bouncer."

Cloud's face, in a heartbeat, went still and dull. All previous good humour, all concern and interest, was swept clean away. Silence reigned at their table, in stark contrast to the idle chatter of the other patrons dotted around.

Patiently, Axel reached for his coffee, picked it up and quietly sipped as he waited for Cloud to recover. This, at least, was an encouraging reaction that things had become a little fucked up.

"He offered you a job like that… and you _accepted?" _Cloud managed, in that small, accusatory sentence, to sound almost neutral. Axel scowled.

"I need the money. I just – I wanted to ask you if you knew about it. If you were okay with it."

"Of _course _I'm not okay with it," the blond hissed, sitting up and leaning forward. "Are you kidding me? What the hell was Roxas thinking?"

"My thoughts," Axel responded dryly, "exactly."

"What were _you _thinking?" Cloud rejoined, wiping the smug look off his face. "Okay, you need the money, but it's not like unemployment is a huge problem around here – and I'd have thought you'd _rather _bus tables in some crappy dive than work that kind of job!"

"Well, you thought wrong," came the irritable answer. Axel hooked an arm over the back of his seat. "Have you _had _a job like that, Cloud? I hated every fucking second of my existence as a goddamn busboy, even when it was going smoothly. I am not _made _to put up with people's _shit, _andI can't handle being bossed around."

"There are _other jobs, _though," Cloud argued anxiously. "Seriously, kid, do you really think this is your only avenue?"

"It's the best thing I've got right now," Axel exclaimed, throwing his hands up and accidentally knocking the table. Coffee slopped out of his cup, amidst the sharp clatter of everything rattling against the surface, and the redhead swore, several sets of eyes turning their way.

Impatient with the way that Axel was now wiping uselessly at the puddle with his sleeve, Cloud reached across, tore open the bag holding his skull-sized muffin, and grabbed out a handful of napkins, wiping at the mess with short, fast strokes. Lifting an eyebrow, Axel glanced down at the ripped bag, then pointed to the dispenser and said, "You know, you could've just got them from –"

"You know, _you _could've," Cloud snapped back quietly. Pulling back, he wadded up the several soggy serviettes and left the resultant ball sitting on the corner near the window, to be baked by the sunshine. "So, you called me here to tell me that Roxas is offering you an obviously _stupid _job, only to also inform me that oh, by the way, you've taken it on. You know what? You're both idiots." He tipped his head back exasperatedly. "What the hell _is_ it with you guys? The second you get within range of each other, all goddamn sensible thought goes flying out the window. You're so _bad _for each other."

"Oh, come on," Axel complained, picking up his cup and waving it around. "It's not like that anymore, and we both came out of everything okay, didn't we?"

"Do you mind _not _spilling your drink some more?" Cloud demanded, grabbing the drying paper ball and swabbing at the few drops that had plummeted from its base.

"That was from the stuff that's on the saucer," Axel muttered sulkily. Cloud shot him a looked of stretched-thin patience. The redhead sighed, rolled his eyes. _"Look, _I'm not happy about it either, alright? The reason I called you is because – well – it's _weird, _isn't it?"

"It's _stupid,"_ the man corrected sternly. "And as for what you said before, _what, _Axel – will it take you guys _not _coming out of a situation unscathed to make you realise that you influence each other's decisions crappily? And don't try to even _think _about telling me neither of you got scars from your relationship – and most of them were because of _you." _He glared at the now-glowering redhead. "I'm not even sure why you called me here. I'm so completely against this. It's not even _funny _how half-witted the pair of you are."

For a moment, Axel held his gaze heatedly. Then, as the words slowly began to sink in, everything that Cloud was saying, the frustration in the man's eyes, he deflated, lowered his eyes, let out a breath. "Okay, fine. I used to be a fuck-up. I messed _up, _I messed up _badly, _and I messed _Roxas _up as a fun bonus." Eyes flashing open, he looked up at Cloud with determination. "But I'm _better _now. I'm different."

"You swore off fighting," Cloud reminded him. "That's why you're better."

Axel frowned unhappily. "…It won't happen like it used to. This is different."

Cloud sighed. "Then why are you so bothered by it? If there's no problem, there's nothing to get worked up about, and my presence here is unnecessary."

For a minute, they studied each other, each with his own level of weariness, both with the conversation and the day in general. "I'm glad I've had the opportunity to meet you in person, Axel," Cloud said at last. "Don't make me regret that, okay?" He flattened his hands on the table, shifted with a deep breath out onto his feet, straightening and pushing his hands through his hair. He gazed down at the sombre-faced redhead, and forced himself to relax into a slight smile. "And speaking of regrettable acquaintances… Reno wants you, and your friend as well I guess, to come out with us tonight. We're not doing much – going over to my co-worker's place for beers and movies, and, well, pool. Tifa has a table in her basement." With a withering tone, he couldn't help but add, "Hey, who knows? Maybe you can get some practice in for work."

Axel hesitated. _Reno again. _"…I'll – raincheck you on that on that one, Cloud. Me and Dem, we were hoping to go exploring tonight, see the sorts of places this place has to offer."

Shrugging easily, Cloud replied, "Suit yourself. You've got my number now, anyway, so you can call me if you change your mind. Before ten o'clock, I can give you a lift, if you like."

The redhead faintly nodded his thanks, paused as Cloud turned, then softly said, "Thanks for coming, at least."

Cloud stopped, looked back, grimacing a little. "…You know, despite everything, you were good for Roxas. You made him happy. It was the first time I could remember hearing him talking like that, like he was – something worthwhile… so – you're welcome. And – anytime, Axel." As he was leaving, he called over his shoulder, "Remember to call me if you change your mind." He stepped out of the café, leaving Axel to his thoughts and memories.

--

"Holy shit! It's as big as my _head!" _Demyx pulled the muffin out of its tattered bag with awe. "This thing could feed starving nations!"

Axel tossed his wallet onto his and Dem's bed, returned to the sitting room of Roxas' apartment, stretching his arms high over his head, trying to work out the tension that had sprung to life in his neck and shoulders. The blond, now with a full mouth and crumb-laden lips, waved him over towards the sofa. "Don't drop any on the furniture," Axel warned. "Jeeze, you're like the messy toddler everyone wants to kick."

Through his mouthful, Demyx garbled dubiously, "You want to kick toddlers?"

"I need a massage," the redhead groaned, collapsing and throwing his head down between his legs, fingers lacing over his neck. "Oh, man."

Swallowing, licking away the stray pieces of sweetness, Demyx studied him for a minute. After sucking the muffin from his teeth, he quietly asked, "You took the job, then, huh?" Axel said nothing. Pulling his legs up to cross them, he wriggled into a comfortable position, picking slowly at the hooded edges of the cake with his thumb and forefinger. "So… what's it pay?"

"Twenty-four bucks an hour," came the muttered response. Demyx nodded, nibbling some blueberry out of his thumbnail, before sighing.

"Are you going to be okay? I mean – is this going to drag you down? Because… if you think it will…" He trailed off, watching as Axel bent even further over, shoulders hunching. After a moment, he set aside the muffin, balancing it on the arm of the sofa, and crawled over on the redhead's back. Axel started to rise, grumbling, "Get the fuck off me," but then Demyx dug his thumbs into the mass of lean muscle of his left shoulder, and he settled down again.

As the blond steadily massaged his upper back, Axel stared down at the carpet. "I'll be okay," he said softly, after several silent minutes had passed. "If I thought it was going to mess me up, I wouldn't have taken it, I swear, Dem." He exhaled slowly, allowing himself to relax under the blond's knowing ministrations. "You should do this for a living," he mumbled.

"I know," Demyx replied airily. "My beautiful hands bring pleasure wherever they go."

Axel snorted with laughter. "Ah, Christ. It'll be good to get out of here for a while tonight." He yawned, shifted slightly to encourage the kneading up towards his neck. "I saw a couple good places for us start at during the drives there and back. Looks like there's some nice clubs around, and I saw this cool bar near Blade…"

Demyx's motions hesitated. "Uh… Wow, um, see, about that, Axel… I actually – I've made plans to see Zexion tonight." When Axel's head twisted sharply, an eye squinting up at him, he blushed and added, "He's going to show me around."

"Oh, _I _see," the redhead complained. "You've got yourself a new man, so it's the big 'it was nice to know you' to the best friend?" He returned to scowl at the carpet.

"It's not like _that," _Demyx couldn't help but argue. "It's just – ordinarily I would go with you, but Zexion is the nicest guy, like, _ever."_

"And far be it from me to stand in the way of great romance," Axel said snidely. There was a short pause, before the blond let out an unhappy noise.

"Okay, don't worry about it."

"Oh, _what _are you _talking _about?" Axel snapped. "Of course you're going, you _ass-hat."_

"No, I shouldn't have said about it," Demyx fretted. "I can't leave you alone after something like today. We need to go out and – and get really _drunk!" _

Green eyes rolled, Axel's spikes brushing the blond's knuckles as he shook his head. "Forget it, Dem," he said, not without kindness. "Thanks, but as big a deal as this whole job thing was, I'm not about to plunge into a depression over it." He stared at the cream-coloured carpet fibres, feeling the blond's hands tentatively resume their pushing at his back. "Anyway – I'm not going to be left alone," he added, injecting as much positivity into his tone as was possible while bent double at the waist and supporting a full-grown male like a turtle's shell. "I'm not spending our second night in town sitting around watching Saturday prime-time specials – this is going to be my last weekend off for a while." He paused, nodded to himself. "Cloud asked me over to his co-worker's place for drinks and movies. I turned him down, but he said I could call any time before ten to get a lift…"

Surprised, with signs of pleased hope, Demyx responded, "Oh! Well – _ah."_ He suddenly scowled, bending over his friend's hunched frame. "Is _Reno _going to be there?"

Axel smirked. "Yes, _Dad, _I guess he will be, since he's the one that told Cloud to ask me along."

"_Axel! _He's so _gross!" _

Grinning wickedly, the redhead chided, "Oh, Dem, stop being such a prude. It's not like _I _wasn't knocking some balls around last night, too – his as _well _as my own. I mean, it was always _accidental_ when I touched his first, but he really didn't seem to –" He broke off, laughing as Demyx shoved him hard to the ground and leapt over his prone form, stalking to the bedroom.

The blond whipped around with a glare, one hand gripping the doorframe, the other clutching the muffin he'd apparently claimed as his own. "…You guys were playing _pool, weren't _you?"he accused.

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, Axel sniffed and nodded, reining his giggles in enough to say, "Reno's – really sorry for freaking you out."

Throwing up his hands, scattering a fine rain of crumbs as he swing the cake through the air, Demyx exclaimed, "Fine, go hang out with the perv, you have my blessing!"

"That means such a lot to me," the redhead sarcastically replied. "You go have fun with your new husband, and I'll hang out with the _perv."_

Winking, Demyx slyly responded, "Ah, but he's the perv _you _want to hook _up_ with."

"Did I _say _that?" came the lazy question. Axel shifted onto his belly, holding his chin up on his palms, fixing Demyx with a steady look. An eyebrow arching, the blond lowered to his hands and knees, crawled over towards him, slithered under the low, black coffee table and mimicked the position.

"How is it," he wondered, an inch away from shining green eyes, "that I can meet a guy and the next night be so totally smitten that I'm going on my first date with him, and you're sitting here –"

"Lying here," Axel pointed out.

"– denying that you even _want _the guy you're going out to meet tonight?"

The redhead smiled beatifically. "I'm just special, I guess."

"Special in the _head." _Demyx poked a finger into his scarlet spikes.

"Yes, Demyx. In the head."

The blond shrugged, worming back out, butt in the air as he struggled to simultaneously keep his shirt from riding up around his armpits. "Is Roxas gonna be there?"

Axel paused. "I don't know. Cloud didn't mention him…"

"Does Reno know that you guys used to go out?"

"Cloud probably told him," the redhead shrugged. Demyx made a thoughtful sound, sitting back on his heels, hair a little mussed from the bottom of the coffee table, eyeing Axel off.

"…Right…" He narrowed one eye, but didn't say anything, Axel offering nothing but another overly-innocent smile from where he remained on the ground. Pushing up to his feet, the blond said airily, "Well, you know the deal, anyway – tomorrow, we go get breakfast, and tell each other _everything."_

"Hell, I'll bet you won't even have another 'he thought I was easy and tried to rape me' story," Axel suggested brightly. Demyx nodded energetically.

"I just might…n't!"

Voice dropping, the redhead warned, "Take your spray deodorant, just in case."

"Right in the eyes," Demyx agreed. He jumped his legs apart, lined up an invisible aerosol and hissed, _"Chssshhhh! _I might be blond, but _I ain't easy, _motherfucker!"

"That's my boy," Axel crowed. "Go be your dangerously insane self, tiger! And give me half of that muffin."

"No," Demyx said, and disappeared into the bedroom, locking the door.

--

Axel waited on the pavement of the brightly-lit street at nine-thirty p.m., arms folded, shoulders hunched against the cold. A light rain was falling, powdery and irritating, illuminated like drifting dust by the lights set up every few meters.

Demyx had been gone for a few hours now, having long-since bounded out the door, whatever outfit he'd worn covered as usual by his tatty coat with the faux-fur cuffs and collar, which apparently, much to his delight, Zexion had claimed to like. Axel personally thought it sounded remarkably like someone trying to bed his dear friend, since to him it looked like some clubbed and subsequently depressed animal carcass, but he supposed there had to be _someone _on the planet that enjoyed it aesthetically as much as Demyx did. It could only be fate that the oh-so-wonderful Zexion would be that one lone human being.

Cloud had sounded almost pleased when Axel had called, and promised to pick him up on his way over to Tifa's… which left Axel standing sheltered under the building's awning wondering how three fully-grown men were going to fit on the one bike, since apparently his boyfriend was coming, too. His mind was alive with theories. There was no mental image in the world quite like the one of three gay men jammed ass-to-crotch on a vibrating machine.

When the old, brown station wagon swung around and rattled to a halt, its dull-eyed owner staring at Axel through the tinted side-window, he felt a twinge of discomfort. In a town that was evidently, according to Roxas, filled with knife-toting psychos, could drive-by muggings really be far behind?

Then the passenger's window rolled down, and Cloud stuck his head out, calling, _"Axel!"_

Head jerking up, startled by the sudden appearance, he jogged quickly over, turning and waving quickly to the doorman who had offered to call him a taxi on Roxas' dime. He grabbed the back door's handle, wrenched and nearly fell over when it didn't actually open.

"Oh!" he heard Cloud utter, before the blond twisted himself over his seat and unlatched it from the inside. "Sorry about that," he said, as the redhead creaked it ajar and folded himself into the long seat. "I forgot it doesn't work from out there."

The guy he'd thought had been planning to desecrate him somehow was looking a lot less sinister up close, and in fact pretty hot, in an 'I'm going to kill you while you're sleeping' sort of way. Demyx would've already been playing dead.

Cautiously, Axel met his flat gaze and greeted, "Uh, hi – nice to meet you. You're Cloud's boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Leon. I saw you last night at Blade."

The faint recognition clicked in Axel's brain. "Right! You went to help hunt down something delicious for Reno, right?"

As Cloud's eyes rolled broadly, Leon chuckled, quickly dispelling the initial grim-seeming air. His features levelled out again afterwards, but Axel figured the guy just had one of those unfortunate default expressions. "So, I take it you and Reno got on pretty well last night?" Cloud ventured shrewdly, as Axel was forced to sharply the slam the faulty door several times to make it stay, Leon already getting the beast moving again.

"It would seem so," Axel observed, doing a swift check of all his fingers, breathing a little harder from the exertion.

"You enjoying staying with Roxas so far?" Leon rumbled. The redhead shrugged a little, turning to gaze out the cold window.

"Yeah, I guess. He's been mostly working so far, so I haven't seen him much. He's got a damn nice apartment, though. I've never seen Demyx more afraid to sneeze too hard in my life." Leaning forward onto his knees, he turned his attention to the front seat, asking, "What about you, Cloud? Own business, loaded brother – what kind of mansion are you living in?"

With a laugh, the blond answered, "Leon's."

"Less of a mansion than a glorified garden shed," the other man muttered.

"Reno lives with his best buddy, Rude," Cloud supplied, "you know, just in case you're interested."

"Oh, kind of like me and Dem. Cool."

The blond shot him a sceptical look while his boyfriend concentrated on the drive. _"Are _you interested?"

"I have a polite interest in _everything_ you have to say, Cloud," Axel returned dryly, with a small smile. A corner of Leon's mouth lifted, while Cloud sighed and twisted back around.

"You seem far too sensible to be an appeal to Reno," Leon muttered, evidently amused by the redhead's taciturn tactics. Axel leaned back, the split leather cover of the seat creaking under him.

"Yeah, well, we're just kind of – friends. Who have known each other less than twenty-four hours. And, quite frankly, my best friend thinks he's a creepy pervert, so, y'know."

"And Demyx demonstrates that he has his head screwed on the right way," Cloud murmured smugly.

"Meow," Leon commented, the blond sticking his tongue out. Axel smirked and shook his head, looking out at the flashing lights and drizzling rain, watching the way with interest, doing his best to memorise the various twists and turns, find a familiarity with the lay of the roads.

Eventually, in comfortable silence, the car arrived with a grating belch from the engine at a bright home in the suburbs. Little flood-lights lined the driveway, which was already occupied by a sleek-looking bike, two helmets hanging from the handlebars. Leon let out a low groan at the sight. "Sephiroth's here."

"He'll behave," Cloud promised calmly.

"_He's _the one that's a creepy pervert," the brunet growled.

Axel leaned his elbows on the edges of each of their seats, eyes shining with curiosity. "Ooh, do tell."

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, Cloud asked, "So, have you and Reno kissed yet?"

"No," the redhead replied brightly. "Is Sephiroth an ex-boyfriend? A jilted lover? A possessive admirer?"

"He's Zack's friend," was all Cloud would say, opening the door and exiting the car.

Leon followed, leaning back in to briefly add, "All of the above," before slamming his door shut. Chuckling, Axel started to do the same, pressing the button to release his seatbelt, only to find that, though it went down, the belt remained firmly locked in place. He frowned, tugged at it while pushing down on the emergency-orange button, with no result.

"Uh, guys?" He could see them at the house, the doorstep isolated in a small gated area, Cloud's finger on the buzzer. Moments later, the front door opened, and last night's long-haired woman greeted them with a broad smile, unlocking the gate and letting them through.

"Guys?"

Obviously, one of the men said something about the additional guest, since she looked surprised, glanced at the car, then grinned and waved before shutting the gate firmly and ushering them into the house.

"_Guys! _Cloud?!" Axel struggled against his bindings, pulling hard at the buckle, wrenching at it, leather protesting and breaths puffing. The door swung shut after the trio. _"Son-of-a-bitch, _crappy goddamn car," the redhead snarled through his teeth. Towards the house, he yelled, "What, did you buy it in the Middle _Ages,_ Leon? Was it a bargain buy next to the iron fucking _maiden?"_ His voice bounced back off the window, ringing in the small space.

After a further two minutes of battling, Axel admitted defeat, slumped down in his seat, and contemplated how he was going to get out of this without gnawing any major limbs off.

--

"Mph. Looks like everyone's here already," Rude observed, as he and Reno climbed out of the redhead's jeep, parked along the curb in front of Tifa's house.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Reno. "We're _always _the last to arrive, Rude, I hate working the goddamn evening shift on the weekend." He glanced at his watch, noted with disapproval the glowing numbers indicating that it was already two in the morning.

"At least we get to sleep late tomorrow," the dark-skinned man pointed out mildly. "Maybe you can actually let me take _advantage _of that, this time."

"I solemnly swear to not wake you up again with my screams of utmost despair," Reno said impatiently. "It's not like he's even _here, _anyway, so there's no risk of it happening."

The pair went around the jeep and started up the glistening driveway, shoes dragging droplets of fallen rain. "Odd," Rude commented as they passed Leon's car. "Leon left the back window down."

Glancing over idly, Reno asked, "Isn't that the door that always sticks?"

"Seatbelt's done up," the other man observed, pausing to squint in. "The leather's been rained on."

"And we care about this _why?" _

Rude shrugged. "Just noticing." They continued to the gate, where Reno automatically started punching out the mental tune of 'Jingle Bells' on the doorbell until Tifa appeared.

"Oh, goodie, you're here," she greeted with a tired smile, stepping through and unlocking the bars. "And you brought your obnoxiousness with you."

"I wouldn't want to disappoint you, sweetheart," Reno winked back. "It's the full Reno package – and _what _a package – or nothing at all."

Rolling her dark eyes, Tifa sighed, "Well, as dreamy as that sounds, I guess I'd better let you in since you _are _here." Reno poked her in the gut as he passed, Tifa slapping the back of his head, and in this friendly fashion, they entered the warmth of her narrow, two-story home.

Reno clapped his hands together, demanding, "Okay, who's here?"

"Oh, the regular crowd," the woman replied lightly, leading the way. "Sephiroth and Leon have been swapping thinly-veiled insults for a while, while Cloud's been enjoying the fact that no one's making fun of him when he loses at pool."

"A luxury on the verge of being _crushed," _Reno smirked. "I love my job."

"We were getting ready to watch a movie, actually," Tifa told them. "Zack's in choosing one right now, if you want to help."

"But first – drinkies," Reno asserted vehemently.

"Ever get the feeling we're all budding alcoholics?" Rude muttered.

"The liver says no, but the heart, it says, _depress me." _

"Well, if that's the case, then you've come to the most depressing place on Earth!" Tifa quipped with a grin, entering the black-and-white checkered-tile kitchen, complete with cabinet upon cabinet filled with liquor.

"Aw, hell, Tif, that's what _everyone _thinks about your house."

She shrugged. "Eh, I walked into that one." She went to the fridge. "What's your poison, boys?"

"Preferably not arsenic. Beer, if you have it," Reno suggested. She snorted.

"_If I have it," _she muttered, opening the door with a jingle of bottles.

Leaning over her shoulder, Reno reverently said, "I really need to own my own bar someday."

"Mm, maybe then you'll stop mooching off mine," the woman said archly, pulling out a pair of bottles. She gestured one towards Rude, asking, "You having the same?"

"Thanks, Tifa." He took the offering, while Reno grabbed his and started uncapping it, exiting the kitchen, joining Zack in the TV room, where the raven-haired man was pondering over DVDs.

"Repress the urge to choose a chick-flick," Reno advised.

"Is that the sound of an asshole I hear?" Zack cupped his ear with an expression of keen concentration. "It must be _Reno _come to visit!" He grinned, clapped the redhead on the back. "You're wanted in the basement, man. Run some interference between Seph and Leon, okay? Cloud's gonna lose his marbles."

"Never send a delivery boy to do a security guard's job," Reno sighed. He left again, calling over his shoulder, "Pick something _gory, _I wanna see Tifa blow chunks over dismembered corpses again."

"I _heard_ that," the woman called from the kitchen. "Sadistic bastard."

"I feel so loved within these walls!" Reno wailed joyously. Sucking at his beer, he headed down the basement stairs, the door standing open, hearing the tail-end of Leon imparting something snippy to Sephiroth, who laughed richly in return. As the room came into view, Reno saw that the two men were, disastrously, competing against one another at a game of pool. Cloud stood against the wall, looking dark-faced and bored. Reno had to admit, as he watched them circle the table, that it looked a lot like a couple of roosters strutting around testing their dominance.

"Wow, I can't believe I was at work all this time when I could've been witnessing the great battle of wits that is Sephiroth versus Leon," he greeted brightly, descending to meet them. Both contenders shot him narrow looks, though Leon's had the slightest amount of relief held within its depths. "Did I miss the peak of the pissing contest, or is it still in session?"

"Missed it," came a voice from the corner beside the stairs. Reno froze mid-step, hand tightening on the banister, then leaned slowly over and peered down at the occupant of the sofa Tifa had situated there. Axel, gazing back up, waved two fingers from around his beer. "There was name-calling and everything."

Reno blinked for a moment. "…Sounds like edge-of-seat stuff."

"Oh, it was the shit."

"Shit was involved, yes," Cloud growled from the wall, Axel laughing, raising his bottle in salute.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sephiroth drawled, shaking his hair over his shoulders. "We're just two grown men having regular discussions about normal things."

"Like who would be better burnt alive in raw Mako," Leon muttered, lining up his shot.

"Don't miss," Sephiroth advised him kindly.

"I don't intend to," the brunet said between his teeth.

"Oh well, I always did like the wind-down," Reno shrugged. He checked his watch, nodded. "It's my own fault for being so late." He reached the bottom, turned towards the couch, eyeing the lazily smiling redhead already there. "I heard you weren't coming, and yet here you are."

"It takes more than a misunderstanding about who did or didn't knock his testicles around on which table to scare me off," Axel said slowly, with a building grin.

Sephiroth coughed a little, Leon pausing and turning to stare at them, while Reno leaned against the stairs with a crooked grin, arms crossed. He then ducked his head, chuckled, and moved to sit beside the other redhead, Axel shifting to give him room.

"Your turn," Leon said at the table.

"Of course it is," Sephiroth sniffed, moving around.

Reno hissed in through his teeth, looping an arm along the back of the couch, bending a knee up onto it, turning to face the other male. "Boy, they sound positively tame tonight."

"You can't pay for the kind of entertainment they were providing at around midnight," Axel admitted. Cloud snorted.

"That's your _spite _talking, Axel," he called over. "Just because we left you in the car with the bad buckle…"

"And forgot to mention that there's a _trick _to opening _any _of the doors from the inside," Axel reminded him sourly. He turned to Reno, hands active as he exclaimed, "Fuck, it was like – the ultimate in child-proofing! A team of scientists with a billion-dollar budget could _not _do a better job at making that car harder to exit, not unless they _melted the latches shut. _I had to climb out the window!"

"Which reminds me – Leon, don't know if you knew it, but it's raining out there," Reno informed the man with relish. Leon frowned at him. Reno swung his head from side to side, prompting, "Open window plus rain equals…"

The brunet gasped. "…The _leather!" _

"Forfeiting so soon?" Sephiroth called smoothly, smiling thinly as Leon ditched his cue on the table and went bolting for the stairs.

"Fuck the game," Leon snapped, with something bordering on distress as he vaulted up to the door. "My _upholstery!"_

Axel watched him go with enjoyment, before casting a sidelong look at Reno. "You really are the local bastard, aren't you?"

With a leer, Reno said, "Well, that's relative – I can be naughty, or I can be nice. It all depends on the person."

"Oh, really?" Axel leaned across, beer breath washing over Reno as he asked, eyebrows raised, "And what do _I _bring out in you? The best, or the worst?"

Cloud groaned. "I'm heading upstairs. Gotta see what's the damage on the car, anyway."

"I'll join you," Sephiroth smirked, placing his cue back in the holder, leaving Leon's where it was.

The two of them headed upstairs, Cloud calling, "I'll get someone to let you guys know when the movie starts."

Throughout the exchange, Reno held Axel's gaze, eyes sparkling. At last, voice low, he said, _"You _bring out a _combination._ There I was, being so nice avenging you for Leon and Cloud leaving you trapped in the car… but somehow, there's this voice in my head that keeps telling me to do unspeakable things to you now that we're alone."

Axel laughed quietly, tilting his head back, revealing a bobbing Adam's apple that Reno had the sudden and powerful urge to attack with his teeth.

Before he could act on it, Axel had lowered his chin again, regarding him with deep amusement. "That's probably something you should get checked out," he recommended.

"Mm, I agree," Reno whispered seriously. "You never know who I might try to inappropriately touch next."

"Oh, that's what you consider 'unspeakable'?" Axel asked mildly, turning away and taking a mouthful of beer, affecting disinterest. "I had a lot worse things in mind than _that. _I get touched inappropriately all the _time." _He flashed a mischievous look over. "And here I thought you were going to be someone new and interesting."

Propping an elbow on the sofa's back, Reno studied him, a smirk hovering ever-present as he drank. "So, what changed your mind? About coming tonight, that is."

"I had plans already. They fell through," Axel replied with easy simplicity. "Apparently, emo-waiters win over childhood friends."

Reno pouted over the neck of his bottle, "I thought you were going to say it's because you desperately wanted my company again." Turning sly, he added, "After all, there _is _a pool table here, and you did suck pretty bad last night."

"More lessons?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a game, with a wager," Reno grinned. Bringing his bottle up, he touched each of Axel's tattoos with the neck, warmed by his lips. "Something… _fun." _

"Fun," Axel deadpanned. "You _do _know that I'm going to lose, right?"

"That's what makes it so promising that I might get something I'm after tonight," the redhead responded deviously.  
"And what exactly would that wager _be?" _Axel asked, verging on suspicion.

"A kiss," Reno said instantly. Before Axel could release a breath, he added, "On any part of your body."

Axel went still, lips parted in preparation for speech, mind going briefly blank. _"…Anywhere?" _

Scooting closer, sliding a hand around the redhead's waist, Reno casually supposed, "We could always just skip straight to the good bit."

Squinting at him, Axel surmised, "We could play a game which I'm guaranteed to lose, or we could just – forgo the wager completely, and have me give the prize straight over?" As Reno nodded eagerly, he made a show of thinking, before, eyes glinting, he took hold of the man's shoulders and pulled himself across onto his lap. He pushed Reno back against the couch, the other redhead smirking expectantly up at him, relaxing confidently, tilting his chin upward. Axel exhaled slowly, leaned in, hovering over Reno's face.

"You should know…" he said, voice silky and soft, "I don't respond well to challenges, Reno." As the man raised a brow questioningly, Axel smiled thinly, expression hardening. "Bring it on. If I lose, I lose – but there's no way I'm giving up." He blew a breath directly into Reno's eyes, making the man blink rapidly, before leaning back, arms crossing over his chest. "I demand a handicap. Same goes for if _I _win – any part of your body."

Reno was, for a moment, a little stunned, even more than he had been upon discovering that Axel was actually present in the proceedings tonight. Then, face aching at the sharpness of it, he grinned fiercely. "I knew there was a damn good reason I left you alone last night."

"Oh? All that subtle groping of my ass and chest, that was you leaving me _alone?" _Axel demanded archly, lips twitching upward.

Reno sighed happily, hands pressing against his hips. "Darling, I was _restrained _with you."

"Well – let's see how long that lasts." Axel grabbed his thighs, pushed himself up and off Reno and onto his sneakers, heading straight for the table, snatching up Leon's abandoned cue.

"Hey, guys, movie's starting!" Tifa called down. "Reno, I made some of your popcorn."

The redhead hesitated, lips pursed in sudden temptation. Then he shook his head hard, as Axel shot him an incredulous look. "Hold it for me, Tif," he responded. "I'll be up… eventually." He added sternly, "And no snacking, I'll know if you did."

"Oh, yeah, never mind that _I _bought it and _I _made it, and…" The woman trailed out of earshot. Axel was scooping balls out from the channel under the table, thunking them up onto the surface. He shot Reno an unreadable look.

"Hurry up."

Gone was the easygoing flirt from the sofa – Axel was sounding all business. Reno was torn as to which he was finding more of a turn-on. "Sure thing, Axel…"

"Since you know the rules, you set up the handicap to make it fair," the redhead commanded, Reno silently obeying, flicking him bright glances that were ignored. "I break," came the next intense contribution.

"Yeah," Reno agreed, staring at him, "to make it fair, right?" He set up the table according to Axel's wishes, shaking his head and thinking, _Rude's never gonna believe this… _

Axel stood at the foot of the table, remembering everything he had been taught the previous night, and, cue-tip chalked up and ready, bent, measured up, and steadily, swiftly, sent the white ball rolling.

The many coloured balls split from their uneven formation, sprawling all over the table… and the game was on.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **:sigh: Hiatus ahoy. Man, hiatuseseses _suck. _I need it for the sake of my sanity (what exists/remains) and the quality of my writing, but I am going to miss this story _so much. _This, and MaH, those are the ones that are really bugging me. Lol, NegZ is going to be too much work for me to be _too _sad about, but yeah, these other two, _damn it. _Oh well. When I get to them permanently, hopefully they'll be lots better. It was nice to not have such scattered thoughts this time around, I know that much. Lol, Tchoi scraped the inside of my skull clean, so from here onwards, everything seems rather clear XD I solemnly swear that this isn't going to be one of those fades-into-obscurity hiatuses, too.

Anyway, I hope you guys like this final (for now) chapter of SII! I was absolutely inspired to get it done faster by the latest chapter of Come Home, by **Lady Karai, **which I urge anyone who adores Cleon (and numerous others, all masterfully written!) to go drool over. Her writing style inspires me each and every time, and this time, I actually got to _use _that, so THANK YOU, KARAI! Lol, I chose feverish writing instead of reviewing, so I'll get that done later today XD

Jesus, my AN's are fricking novels in and of themselves.

--

CHAPTER SIX

Mouth agape, eyes shining, a faint flush staining his throat, cheeks and ears, Demyx asked, "And _then _what happened?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "My handicap gave me just the edge I needed to miraculously win, Dem, and I made him suck my cock."

The blond sighed, eyes rolling subtly in return as he ripped open miniature sachets of sugar, tipping the granules into his herbal tea and stirring around the string of the teabag, which straggled out and flopping over the edge of the cup like the survivor of a near-drowning incident. The waitress had politely offered honey when he had requested something to sweeten his lovely-smelling, water-tasting beverage, but had been turned down in favour of two packets of UltraSweet. The delicate dance of war between Demyx's inner hippie and modern man continued, and he lowered his spoon to the saucer, blowing on his hot drink, eyes fixed firmly on Axel across the table.

Sunshine streamed to earth around them, their table set up just outside a café that Axel had noticed on his way through the city in yesterday's cab ride to Blade. Only a couple of streets away from Roxas' apartment, it offered pavement seating with a wobbly table in desperate need of a matchbook to hold it up, semi-crappy service, and a decent coffee at the end of it.

As the blond bumped his elbows on the table, knocking everything a half-inch to the left, Axel pulled out a couple serviettes from the dispenser and wiped the side of his cup, the milky coffee he'd ordered dribbled down its gleaming white side. Beside them, traffic sped past and stopped periodically, a set of traffic lights not far down the road giving them a new set of cars to stare at every three minutes or so.

"…I wasn't a lot of competition," he muttered at last, giving in to Demyx's patient silence.

The blond leaned forward, smirking. "So, didja throw the game?" Axel shot him a look that spoke volumes, making him grimace and bob his head to one side. "Yeah, well… you don't even like to lose at Twister, so I guess not…" A mischievous grin crept slowly across his features. "Not even when the 'punishment' for losing is getting kissed _anywhere _on your _whole body, _by some red-haired _perv…" _He thought for a moment, Axel's eyes raised to the sky, waiting for him to wind up the interruption and let him continue with the story. "Never play Twister with Reno," Demyx said thoughtfully. "Okay?"

_Twister with Reno. _Oh, the potential for gratuitous molestation.

Demyx reached across and patted his hand with an afterthought of, "Well, maybe when you're older, at least."

Axel groaned a little, pushing a palm against his brow, rubbing one eye. "…I lost, Dem. I definitely lost."

Detecting something different in his tone, Demyx frowned a little, posture slouching as he tried to peer up into his friend's downturned face. "Axel…? He didn't – _do _anything to you, did he?"

The redhead barked out a strangled laugh, higher than usual. "With a wager like _that? _Oh, he did something, alright…"

"But – it was just a kiss, right?" The blond considered this for a moment, eyes widening in the face of Axel's silence. He blinked, one eye squinting, lips pursing into an expression that said he didn't really want to know the answer to this, but… "Axel… exactly where _did _Reno kiss you…?"

--

_**Eight Hours Previously**_

"I don't call this fair," Axel muttered, a hand clamped to his hip, scowl in place as he held his cue out to one side, watching Reno meander around the table, sinking the brightly-coloured striped balls with ease. Suddenly, he found himself with an appreciation for what Cloud must have gone through every time he was unlucky enough to play the cocky redhead at what was obviously _his game. _

They hadn't even been playing long; Reno had given him maybe one or two chances, a superficial show of sportsmanship. He'd let him slam the balls together with a satisfying series of clicks, had let him come close to sinking one, and then _bam, _he grew tired of the humouring, took the offensive, and did it with the biggest shit-eating grin that Axel had ever seen. He shamelessly strutted the basement, thumbing his nose and making a show of measuring each and every shot with geometrical precision, sticking his ass out at every opportunity as he bent low over the table.

Axel had begun grinding his teeth on about the third potted ball, the challenging edge of his expression thinning into sharp disapproval. "You're taking advantage of your – _advantages," _he accused, Reno throwing him a smug, patient look that screamed, _Uh, duh. _"You're not even giving me a chance!" Axel objected, a flicker of anger entering his tone. "I agreed to the game with the handicap in place so that I'd at least have an _opportunity. _I agreed on the wager being a _kiss, _not bending over and taking it up the _ass."_

The lanky redhead paused to shoot him a smouldering smirk. "Sore that you don't have a chance of winning, eh?" He straightened, raised an eyebrow, taking time to slowly and deliberately, if perhaps suggestively, chalk the tip of his cue, everything about him unhurried and relaxed. "You know," he struck up casually, "if you're really that intent on being the one to do it, I'll forfeit the game right here and now." Blue eyes slid sideways, a sly cast to them as he carefully ran his gaze up Axel's body, before finally meeting his gaze with a slow wink. "I… _honestly _wouldn't mind…"

The other man's eyes were narrow. "…Demyx was right," he said after a few beats of tense silence. "You _are _a pervert."

"I am _the _pervert," Reno succinctly corrected, with a dazzling smile. He leaned down, lining up his cue with the white ball, blue-chalked fingers sliding fluidly around the wood. He hesitated, lifted his gaze again to Axel's, the smile growing larger, and without looking, sank the seven with one swift motion. "Well? You're running out of time," he sang lightly.

Axel glared. "Nobody's forfeiting."

A satisfied look fell fresh across Reno's features, as he continued around the table. Silence stretched between them, Axel watching with helpless frustration as the other redhead potted the eight. "There it goes," the man murmured, lips twitching up at the corners. "And then there was _one." _

"This is bullshit," Axel swore, earning a lazy glance.

"Losing your motivation? You agreed to this, remember? When you were sitting on my lap, juuust over there?" He flashed a relishing grin. "That's the sort of treatment a guy could get used to, you know."

"Well, I sure as hell won't be betting a pool game on it happening again," Axel replied loudly, doing his best to keep from sulking, having to struggle with the effort of it. "You know what _I'm _used to? I'm used to at least having a _shot _with this sort of thing. I've never entered into a game where I had _no chance whatsoever _before."

Reno hummed thoughtfully for a moment, before posing, "Then why'd you enter it?"

Axel's mouth froze mid-response, words catching in his throat, never making it as far as his teeth as his mind suddenly found itself faced with an impasse. His jaw clicked shut, a look of comical blankness stamping his features, like he'd just been asked his name and date of birth, and couldn't for the life of him remember either. It was an answer he should have had ready, should have been the most obvious thing in the world, should have been written into his _genetics_ complete with rationale and rebuttal, but –

"I win."

Axel visibly swayed, blinking rapidly out of his churning thoughts, realising with dawning horror that yes, while he had been mulling the question over with certain amounts of panic, Reno had gone ahead and got rid of the eight ball. Axel's eyes had followed every movement he'd made, but he'd been so involved in what was going on internally that he hadn't registered anything that was happening.

It was something of a shock, to be faced with crushing defeat when only minutes before he'd been prepared to give it his all. Who said miracles don't happen? He could've won; he _could've. _If he'd – if he'd just…

"You're thinking _way _too hard," Reno observed with amusement. He wandered over to the rack holding the few cues that Tifa owned, slotting it in carefully with its fellows, wiping his fingers and thumb carefully against his black jeans, unconcerned with the blue smears left behind. "Relax, Axel."

_I don't like to lose. _It was on the tip of his tongue, but dry, incapable of being voiced. Not here, not now, and not to _this_ man. Roxas would have understood. Demyx would _definitely _have understood. Both blonds had long ago figured it out – you don't play Axel at anything. When it was just something casual, it was okay, but the second it became a competition, you were screwed. He was aware of his tendencies, and just avoided anything that would trigger that edge in his personality. There was a good reason why he'd never played pool before, there was a good reason why he never threw darts, or took up a sport, or –

"See, you're _doing _it again." Reno tsked, in front of the redhead and loosening his fingers from around the useless pool cue. "All this thinking, it's bad for your health, man. You're gonna hurt yourself at this rate." He slid the cue to one side, sidling up – startlingly close, all of a sudden, so that Axel could smell the beer on his breath, could make out the occasional freckle marring his otherwise flawless complexion. He blinked, leaned back the smallest amount instinctively, and got his chin grabbed a second later by a cool, dry hand. "And I believe," the security guard said quietly, "you owe me a debt?"

Axel's face hardened the slightest amount. "Should I just unzip and get it over with?"

"You knew you were gonna lose," Reno purred, undeterred by the attitude – gleeful, even. Whatever Axel said from here was just the ire of a sore loser – Reno had won the wager fair and square, and no amount of pouting was going to turn him away until he got what was coming to him. With little more than a leer, he added, "Besides, there's plenty of time to get into your pants. You'll be around town for a while. I don't think one solitary kiss is going to be enough for me if your pants are unzipped…" He hummed, leaning close, hands shifting to wrap around the rigidly-postured man's waist, hovering around Axel's jaw as he breathed, "Not unless you feel like forgetting all this and just coming back to my place. Rude'd jump for joy if I told him was sleeping here at Tifa's…"

"It's not gonna happen," Axel said flatly. Reno sighed in exaggerated disappointment, the hot breath tickling the side of his face.

"A pity. But expected." His hands slid gradually down, lifting the hem of the redhead's shirt, thumbs drawing small circles at his hips. Axel forced a cool stare down at him, refusing to allow himself to react, not a shiver, not a twitch. Discipline over his body once having been a point of pride for the redhead, and there was no way he was letting some random power company guard bring him undone. "I don't remember authorising a groping session," he commented archly. Reno's eyes ticked slowly up, lips parting, an eyebrow twitching. Unable to quite keep the corners of his mouth from shivering upward, he nevertheless adopted a similar attitude, agreeing after a pause, "You're quite right."

Axel felt the mockery rolling off him in waves, stifled his irritation, deciding that maybe he didn't like Reno so much, after all. It looked like Cloud was the one with his head screwed on straight, never mind Demyx's instant dislike for him. Maybe this would have to be it – end of relations. Otherwise, who knew what the guy would dream up next? Axel sighed, eyes lifting heavenward, thinking that maybe he should try finding an emo-waiter of his own to hang out with instead.

"Let's just get down to business, then," Reno asserted, somehow managing to keep his voice breathy enough to make it some kind of multi-layered suggestion more than a statement. "A transaction. One person to another, like money changing hands."

"Or you could just shut up and kiss me somewhere," Axel supposed between his teeth, looking anywhere but at the blue eyes hovering an inch below his own. Reno huffed a slight laugh.

"There's always that," he admitted, his words tickling the redhead's throat teasingly. He hummed thoughtfully, settling his hands on Axel's hips, not quite resting against him, deliberately allowing his exhalations to prickle against his neck. Moving his mouth slowly up to his ear, then back down towards his collar, lips at no point actually touching skin, Reno murmured, "Mm, where to do it… Where, where, where to kiss such a suddenly reluctant partner…"

His hands squeezed on the second last word, a sensual caress through Axel's shirt, and despite himself, the green-eyed redhead couldn't help but feel an extra layer of heat start up beneath his flesh. He fought the impulse to swallow heavily, fought the increase of his heart rate, but couldn't keep his gaze from lowering to his tormentor, Reno's scarlet facial tattoos standing out starkly in the dimmer basement lighting. He caught a glimpse of the man's mouth, open as it traversed the planes of his skin a bare few millimetres from contact, tongue visible just behind his teeth, and felt a jump in his gut. Blue eyes slid upward, sensing an observer, a smile slithering to either side of Reno's face as Axel quickly glanced away with affected disinterest.

"…I think I know just the place," he said softly. One hand released Axel, the space where it had been firmly clasping feeling oddly light and cool without that hot touch pressing down. The hand travelled gradually up to his shoulder, the redhead trying to not flinch back, before heading away, long fingers stroking their way down biceps, past elbow, towards his wrist, fingers clutching the side of the pool table. Reno gently tickled the exposed cords of vein and tendon, easing his fingertips under Axel's palm, the redhead reluctantly lifting his hand.

He watched with wariness as Reno captured their hands together, drawing them up towards his face, changing the grip so that the spike-haired redhead's fingers curled over onto his knuckles, and vice versa. The Shin-Ra guard smiled coquettishly against his conquest's nails, Axel dubiously asking, "You're going to kiss – my hand?" The tension slowly leaked out of him. Was this Reno being his own… special brand of sweet, or was it some tactic to try and get him into bed? Rolling his eyes as the latter struck a brightly ringing chord of likelihood, he sighed, "Y'know, Reno, I'm really not the sort to be a sucker for romantic cra—"

The redhead's tongue came out, inserted itself beneath the pad of Axel's pinkie, and deftly lifted the small appendage into an upright position. Axel went suddenly very still, very silent, eyes going wide.

The door upstairs slammed open, making them both jump, Zack with a mouthful of God only knew what in his mouth yelling down, "Hey, you guys! Tifa said to say to move your asses, the movie's starting to get gross and she's gonna eat your popcorn, Reno."

Reno's gaze met Axel's brightly, taking in the flushed cheeks, the stunned expression, coupled with a flustered reaction to Zack being so close to just looking over and seeing them. Humour stole through the ponytailed man, a grin building, teeth closing gently over the end of the finger, his tongue pulsing against it as he called back, slightly muffled, "Yeah – we'll be right up."

Axel's gaze shifted down to where his hand was being kept prisoner, neither of them moving again until they heard the bang of Zack's exit, his boots audibly clomping off towards the TV room. "My finger is in your mouth," he then stated uncertainly.

Reno smirked, tongue curling around said finger, drawing it deeper in, teeth scraping lightly. Axel felt the moistness envelop him right down to the final knuckle, Reno's mouth almost painfully hot when coupled with the hard pound of his blood through his veins. The blue-eyed man's lips closed with deliberate slowness, coming together and pressing around Axel's pinkie, squeezing, sucking, all but swallowing him whole. His tongue pushed and swirled, Axel's finger alive with sensation, as Reno simulated what seemed to be a promise of the best blow job he could ever possibly receive.

All thoughts of the game, the unfairness, the wager – all were blasted from Axel's mind, replaced with a dizzy tingle that shot through every nerve with every pulse of Reno's mouth. His breaths shortening, he couldn't help but notice the shine of saliva glistening just beyond the man's lips, where he'd pulled back slightly, to the second knuckle instead of the third, concentrating his teeth on the softness that possessed its underside. His hand was on fire with every little twitch of the man's jaw, legs threatening to shake, heart in his throat and climbing for the coveted space between his ears.

It lasted for perhaps three minutes, before Axel realised he was either going to have to put a stop to this or end up taking it far further than intended – and Reno, perhaps sensing this, chose that exact moment to draw things to a close. There was the unmistakable smack of a kiss, mostly silence having filled the air so far, broken only by the occasional sharp intake of breath, and the red-haired security guard pulled gradually back from Axel's hand. He made sure that Axel felt every second of every centimetre leaving the moist cavern of his mouth, made certain that every sensation was being memorised, before releasing him with a soft pop.

He straightened, licking his lips both reflexively and teasingly, untangling his fingers from Axel's but staying close, reaching past to grab hold of the pool table on either side of the absolutely stupefied object of his affections. As Axel struggled to come to terms with what had just happened, Reno planted an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his face, feeling the jolt of tension that suddenly spiked through the body beneath his and murmuring in the nearby ear, "And that was just a _kiss…"_

--

In the sunshine, Demyx gawped, hands wrapped around his hot teacup, eyes like saucers. "He…" He blinked. "Whoa." Axel nodded from behind his hands, rubbing his face before parting his fingers, watching the blond process the tale. Then, very abruptly, Demyx started up with a hysterical giggle. He quickly moved to muffle himself, knocking the table all over again, Axel snatching up his coffee before it could spill, complaining, "Oh, oh thanks, Dem, I appreciate your _mature contribution _to the conversation."

It continued. Demyx ducked his head under the wobbly table, folding his hands over his hair, and proceeded to giggle like a bitch for the better part of sixty seconds. At times it would wane, as he gasped for breath, but obviously the thought of Axel getting his finger sucked off was _just that funny, _because he'd explode into a fresh burst all over again. Axel sighed, sipped his coffee like the proverbial adult of the pair, waiting for the _thirteen-year-old _on the other side to regather his wits.

When the blond eventually, _eventually, _came back up, sucking air and feebly stuttering it back out with a hint of clinging mirth, wiping his now-tearful eyes, Axel attempted to steer the conversation to more solid ground, asking pointedly, "What about you and Zexion? How far did the _lovebirds _go last night?"

Demyx took an extra large breath, lowered his hands back to the table, and said weakly, "Oh, we fucked in an alley and he made me call him 'daddy'."

Massive choking ensued from Axel, mouth filled with burning hot beverage at this point. His eyes joined Dem's, watering to the point of tears as he squeezed them shut, coughing harshly and banging the table, before sending the blond an incredulous, bloodshot look. Demyx rolled his eyes, this time having been the one to rescue his drink from the flails of the other, cup clutched up near his mouth. "Oh, come _on, _you know I'm joking."

"I could do without the mental image, thanks so much!" the redhead replied shrilly, grinding the heel of a palm into one eye.

Demyx let out a sardonic, "Hah! Oh, but me hearing about how Reno _fellated _your pinkie, that's cool, right? I mean, sure, I'm not _traumatised _or anything."

"Oh, grow up," Axel croaked. "My story's nothing compared to the thought of _that." _He exaggerated a shudder, face twitching as he returned to his coffee. "So, please, tell me, how'd it go? Do I have to kick his ass for him, or what?"

Demyx grew dreamy, and Axel could have groaned. He recognised that look. There would be no ass-kicking with this one, not yet – not, at least, until Dem stopped acting like a total and utter _girl _about him, if ever he did. Axel would have to keep tabs to make sure the ever-so-perfect Zexion didn't do anything that the blond started classifying as, 'my fault'.

"It was wonderful," he sighed happily. "He took me to a late play after showing me around all the different places." He became excited, leaning over and exclaiming, necessarily in Axel's opinion, "A _play, _Axel! Not some cheap, crap-ass movie!"

"Hey, I happen to _like _cheap, crap-ass movies," the redhead grumbled. "So keep it down."

Dem splayed his hands on the tabletop, holding it steady, insisting, "But, but! Cheap, crap-ass movies, they're the perfect place for, like, creepy guys to make their move! And _Zexion didn't try that!"_

"No, he's taking the _serial killer _approach," Axel mumbled into his cup. "He'll lull you into a false sense of security, then before you know it, he's eating your _intestines _with _pointy little teeth."_

"He doesn't _have _pointy little teeth," Demyx exasperatedly breathed. "He has normal ones." He bared his own in a grin, tapping their white surfaces with a fingernail, saying between them, "Like this. See?"

Axel arched a brow. "So he didn't make a move on you at _all?" _

The blond took his scepticism in defensively, replying, "Well – he kissed me goodnight. So there. But there was no tongue, which is _more than I can say for you." _

"How disappointing for you," the redhead dryly quipped. Demyx slumped.

"Well, yeah. But I think he's just sort of… shy, with that sort of thing." He dimpled softly. "I actually thought it was really… cute."

Axel groaned, out loud this time. "What a perfect little prince."

Demyx gave a frustrated sigh, flicking an irritable hand at the redhead. "Fine. Don't like him. See if I care. It's not like I like _Reno,_ after all. The _perv." _The conversation reached a pause, both of them taking thoughtful mouthfuls of their respective drinks, before Demyx hesitated, shooting Axel an unsure look. "So… what about Roxas? How do you think he'll react to knowing you went and hung out with his brother and the resident… pinkie-sucker?"

Axel paused, sucking lightly on the insides of his cheeks, a slow frown developing.

--

_**Six Hours Previously**_

Axel unlocked the door to the apartment quietly, its hinges silent as it swung carefully inward. Palming his spare key, he slid inside, faltering with surprise at the sight of light coming from the centre of the room, a bright pool at its heart that got duller the further outward it spilled. Illuminated at its core, head gripped in one hand, was Roxas, sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, small, squat, white lamp clicked on beside him. A mess of papers encompassed every inch of the black surface, ordered and yet chaotic, completely foreign to its usual empty, daytime gleam.

The blond was muttering to himself, hadn't heard Axel's near-noiseless entrance, too intent on whatever he was doing. A large calculator sat at one elbow, his attention switching between it and the nearest papers, fingers alternating between punching numbers into the soft pad and scribbling with a lead pencil.

Heart softening at the sight, a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, filled suddenly with reminiscence of the days when he'd used to see Roxas similar to this, bent over schoolwork as he struggled, fought and bit his way through business college, Axel shut the door with a deliberately audible click, not wanting to startle him. Nevertheless, Roxas jumped, concentration scattered to the four winds as his head came up sharply, wincing a second later as his neck cracked from the sudden motion, a hand reaching up to massage the site.

"Morning," Axel smirked, arms folding over his chest, nodding towards the spread of papers. "Nothing like bringing your work home with you, huh?"

"Axel." Roxas' voice was hoarse with lack of sleep, dark smudges visible under eyes that were overbright in the harsh light. "I thought… Weren't you guys home a while ago?" He peered over his shoulder in confusion. "I heard someone in the bathroom when I was in my room – I thought that was one of you."

"One of us, yes," the redhead confirmed, dropping his arms, leaving his key in the bowl beside the door and shifting over to the couch, sinking down onto the firm cushion. As he propped his elbows on his spread knees, fingers lacing in the space between, he said, "We changed out plans, didn't go out together. Dem got home before me, I guess – which is a good thing, since he was on his first date with your very own Zexion of Blade."

Surprise burst into Roxas' expression, eyes momentarily losing their fatigued glassiness, blinking rapidly, laying his pencil flat against the coffee table as he leaned forward. "Ze – _Zexion? _Demyx and _Zexion? _And – Zexion _wanted _to?"

"No need to say it like that," Axel responded testily. "It's not like the emo-waiter's too good for Dem."

The blond backpedalled hurriedly, holding his hands up jerkily, some social panic in him as he corrected, "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I just, I mean – it's _Zexion." _He sat back, pushing a hand through his spikes. "He's among the most unresponsive men I've ever met. He's polite and all, you know – nice – but he's the sort of guy you imagine going home and – I don't know, plugging himself in to recharge overnight." He shook his head. "And Demyx seems so _excitable." _

Axel shrugged, mollified but still slightly suspicious of the main drive behind his shock. "I guess opposites attract, like they say. Zexion sure isn't being unresponsive towards Dem."

Still gripped with an almost offensive form of wonder, Roxas turned his focus to Axel, brows lowering slightly as he asked, "So, wait – you didn't go out alone, did you?"

"What am I, someone who needs to worry about getting jumped outside of a club? _No, _dear, I didn't go out alone. When did _you _become such a mom?"

The blond scowled. "I just didn't like the thought of you being _lonely, _asshole."

"Oh, come on, like I've never gone out by myself before? I like to think I'm a _little _more self-sufficient than that, Rox."

Roxas sighed, tossed up a hand to heavily drop his head onto, saying, "Fine! I'll remember not to bother for next time." He sucked a breath, let it out shortly, obviously not feeling patient, being surrounded by work he'd been interrupted from not helping matters. "So, can I ask who you went out with, or is that too _mom-like?" _He affected a high-pitched, cranky voice, adding, _"I don't want to hear about you hanging out with those layabouts that smoke behind buildings, young man. Cut your hair! Where have you been until four in the morning?" _

Axel huffed an amused breath, easing up on the confrontational attitude, saying, "Well – _mommy – _I was invited over to my ex-boyfriend's brother's… cousin's sister's friend's aunt's… house, and we smoked _weed, _and threw a _kegger, _and we played _spin the bottle, _and I got to see Tifa blow chunks after the hero's girlfriend got her arms sawn off by a psycho-killer." He grinned brightly. "Wholesome activities, you know, the usual."

Roxas blinked at him, crushed a palm into his eye for a brief twist, then started quietly laughing. "Cloud asked you to Tifa's? Oh, wow, I wanted to break you in slower than that. Those guys are out of their minds."

"Your brother's boyfriend is nice," Axel said, then, by way of confirmation, added, "His ex-boyfriend, a little less so."

Roxas gave a crooked grin. "You got the full treatment, then, huh? Oh, no," he suddenly groaned, taking his face in both hands. "And you would've had to put up with Reno!" He dragged his fingers down his cheeks, resting his chin on his palms. "You know, Demyx is a popular guy – he must give off some amazing pheromones, because I had Reno messaging me just this morning asking for his number." Axel stiffened, opening his mouth awkwardly, only to be cut off by the blond continuing, "I hope he didn't bug you too much about him. Reno's the most out of his mind of all of them – I'm glad Demyx is going out with Zexion instead, it gives him a measure of protection against the _persistence _that is classically Reno." He sent Axel a scrunch-nosed smile. "I can't imagine the type of person who actually says _yes _to that guy." He considered his words, then tacked on more generously, "He's nice, though. Fun. Just – totally sleazy."

Axel felt every nerve in his body climb on top of a very tall building, contemplating the drop. A small pause developed between them, Roxas studying his frozen state blankly. He couldn't seem to find the words to say in response to this less than encouraging endorsement of Reno personality, brain having ground to a full halt. Roxas' head tilted to one side, Axel beginning to sweat, before suddenly the blond sighed, "Ugh, I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm talking too much." He resumed grinding his hands into his eyes, as if trying to rid himself of the leech-like exhaustion. "Sorry. You know what I'm like. Deprive me of sleep, and I'll bullshit for hours over things no one cares about."

Lunging at the topic change with overwhelming relief, Axel pointed out, "That's why you shouldn't bring your _work home with you. _Home is meant to be for sleeping, not – _not _sleeping. I mean, it's four in the morning, Rox," he elaborated, as the blond blinked heavy lids. "That's all well and good for slackers like me coming home from a night out, but you were at the restaurant all day, and the entire time before Cloud and Leon picked me up at ten – and did you even take a bath when you got home?"

Roxas frowned. "Why? Do I _need _a bath?"

Axel overreacted, still reeling from the 'Reno discussion', exclaiming altogether too loudly for the hour, "Of course you need a bath! Not because you stink, although you probably do after stewing all day in your own juices over a kitchen with people yelling at you, but because of – the therapeutic qualities! The relaxation of it! Jesus, Roxas, don't you know how to take care of yourself at _all _anymore?"

"…I lead a busy life," the blond grumbled ineffectually.

"Too busy for a _bath?"_ Axel sceptically asked.

"Now who's being a mom?" Roxas muttered, returning his gaze down to his calculator sulkily, but obviously not seeing the numbers anymore. Whatever roll he'd been buzzing on before Axel arrived, it was long gone now. The redhead let out an unimpressed sound, Roxas lifting his head defiantly at it, blue eyes narrowing. Out of sheer spite, he said, voice clearer now, "And speaking of work, I thought it would be a good idea for you to come in tomorrow. Uh, tonight. During Blade's rush hour. You can bring Demyx, or he can… well, no, he can't go on a date with Zexion, because Zexion's rostered on for tonight, so yeah, bring him. Or don't, whatever. It's up to him. My point _being," _he slogged on, dredging himself out of the trail of mumbles he'd slipped into and resuming with determination, "that I think you'd benefit from seeing the sort of crowd you'll be managing when you start taking the door for the basement. It should put you more at ease, and familiarise you with the type of cliental that Blade gets. You'll be fed, on the house, of course – so what do you say?"

Blindsided by the direction of the conversation, Axel floundered a moment, then said, "Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good. We'll be there."

"Good!" Roxas nodded once, pushed his posture straight, then slumped back over almost instantly, shoulders rounded with tiredness. He gazed dazedly at the paperwork smothering the table, heaving a bone-weary sigh.

Axel placed his chin upon his tangled fingers, eyeing him with fond frustration. "Roxas."

The blond glanced up. "Hm?"

"Go to bed. Now, okay?" He gestured a finger to the mess. "You can't do all this at four in the morning. Your restaurant is going to suck if you're falling asleep at work, and if you _don't _fall asleep, you're going to have a breakdown or something."

"I maintain that you're the one being more mom-ish than I am," Roxas complained half-heartedly. Despite this, he contemplated the papers, then slowly began gathering them together, sorting them into piles, shutting the calculator off. "I guess I'll just… go straight to bed then. I'll fall asleep if I try having a bath now."

"And eternal sleep doesn't quite have the same health benefits as just one good night," Axel winked. He leaned forward and flicked the blond's forehead. "Don't for God's sake dream about filling out forms, or I'll come into that head and drag naked women with me. All the ones I've met in the last couple days, just to really freak you out."

Roxas made a disgusted face. "I love the way you show you care." Looking like he weighed a dozen pounds heavier than usual, he pushed himself up, stacking all the work up and lifting it into his arms. "I'll leave you to turn off the light," he mumbled, already turning away. "Night, Axel. See you tomorrow night."

"Night, Roxas." The door shut quietly behind the blond, Axel sitting still for several minutes, running their voices through his head, before reaching out to switch off the little lamp, plunging the apartment into darkness with a sharp click.

--

"…He'll be fine. Why should he care, after all?" Axel brought up a thumbnail to chew, idly adding, "By the way, we're having dinner tonight at Blade. Maybe you'll see your future husband there. Maybe he'll do something _dirty _to your food."

Demyx brightened at the thought – hopefully, the bit where he'd be _seeing _Zexion, and not the having-something-dirty-done part. Axel didn't know if he'd be able to eat if Zexion turned out to be their waiter, now that the idea was in his head.

The blond's expression dimmed a little, back to normal, as he resignedly played along with what could only be classed as a subject-change, asking, "So, do you think you'll – you know – see him again? Reno?"

A dry smile curved the corners of Axel's mouth. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Not unless _I'm _in a room, and _he's _in a room, and we happen to find ourselves in the _same_ room while other people are there. He's… nice enough, for sure, but… eh." He shrugged, not bothering to finish the sentence with anything substantial.

Demyx was eyeing him with a shrewd, thoughtful expression. Axel sighed quietly and waited, wishing he had a toothpick to distract himself with in lieu of the cigarette he was suddenly craving but wouldn't indulge in, for fear that every blond in his current existence would beat him to within an inch of his life for endangering his health, in a dangerous fit of painful irony.

"…You know you haven't had a boyfriend since Roxas, right?" Dem struck up, once the cogs had stopped turning quite so visibly within his skull. He propped his elbows on the table, fingertips touching together like some kind of Freudian therapist, lacking only the little moustache and German accent. "I mean," he went on, "far be it from me to advocate _the perv, _but I don't know, maybe you should loosen up a little."

Axel blinked incredulously. "I should _'loosen up' _a little? Demyx, are you telling me to go have a one-night stand? _You? _You, of the 'love at first sight, one true soul-mate' hippie crap philosophy?"

"Hippies believed in free love, dumbass."

"Okay, _sappy _crap philosophy," came the arch response. "Either way – you _want _me to go out and have some erotic fling just to let off some steam?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Demyx ventured, "Well, you haven't really shown interest in anyone for a while, so I don't see why you have to over-think it or anything and not just enjoy… his company. And – and he's obviously not looking for anything serious, so…"

The redhead rolled his eyes, sitting back in his metal chair and swallowing the last of his stretched-out coffee. "Demyx, I don't think that guy takes _anything _seriously. Far be it from _me _to be the _sensible _one, but I don't know if my first order of moving cities should be to get a guy who wants to fuck me and forget me."

"But –! Maybe that's what you _need! _Someone you don't care about at all," the blond persisted earnestly. "Someone that can just – reintroduce you to… having harmless fun. Reno is _safe, _because he won't _want _anything from you." He started to smile eagerly, wagging a finger in Axel's direction, saying, "In fact – in fact, _you _could be the one doing the fucking and forgetting! And then you and Reno can both just – move on, feeling better about yourselves! It's a win-win situ_ation, _Axel. I just want to see you having fun for once, and the perv is the perfect candidate, because he doesn't have feelings for you and probably never _will!" _He bent down, beaming up into the redhead's unconvinced expression. "Well – what do you think?"

--

"I think I'm in love."

Reno's sighed words came during what could only be described as the normal human's lunchtime, which the redhead and Rude were delicately insisting was in fact breakfast. The girl with the menus hadn't agreed. No, the kitchen wouldn't serve them eggs and bacon. No, Rude couldn't get a bagel anymore. The only breakfast-y thing still available was the coffee, and that wasn't much of a fucking consolation prize when it tasted like _these _people made it.

Rude, however, had settled with the day's newspaper, satisfied as long as he could get his drink and pore over the recent world events, while Reno had been happy in general, to the extent of affectionately calling the waitress a frigid bitch _after _she'd left the table, instead of to her face, when his natural wit and charm had failed to get them their way.

His sudden statement, while unexpected, hadn't ruffled Rude enough into putting down his paper, though his fingers did hesitate for perhaps the merest half second as he was turning the page. "You've never been in love with anyone outside the mirror in your life," he reminded the redhead, to which Reno nodded amiably.

"Yeah. I know. I just felt like saying it." He tilted his head back, arms stretching over the back of his chair, expressing whimsically, "I'm in _love." _

Rude took a sip of tar-like coffee. "Reno. You're a strange little man."

The redhead leered, straightening enough to direct it at Rude across the table, cooing, "Aw, hell, Rude, you think _everyone's_ little next to you."

Rude placed his mug down, licked his lips, and kept reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hurraaaaay! I love writing this story. It was a hell of switch in personalities from HTPD, though :P I wasn't going to post this yet, it's actually been ready for quite a while now, because I didn't want you guys to hate me for the current continuing lack of review responses (I have been a busy and sickly madam writer), but then Michele-bellx asked if I could, and how could I say no to the woman who is both my fiancée and a big chunk of the reason this story is continuing? ;) She and Atomic-Clover both left me wonderful, wondiferous reviews that inspired me to pick the story back up, so this and HTPD are now my regulars, I'll be switching periodically between them.

Seriously, though, between this and HTPD I am feeling distinctly bipolar :P Hopefully the quality is okay by you guys. I, typically, don't particularly like it. I frown in its general direction.

--

CHAPTER SEVEN

Blade during peak-hour was a different place entirely from what Axel had got accustomed to. While on the previous occasions he'd visited the restaurant it had been quiet, still, peaceful in places, at seven-thirty pm, even on a Sunday night like this, it was a madhouse of activity and bodies. Just like Roxas had said, business was booming, and for a gaping minute there was little Axel and Demyx could do but stand in the doorway and stare. If this place really was haunted, then it must've been a grand old gathering of poltergeists.

Almost every table was already occupied, the line at the host's stand constant, the man behind it with elegantly tied back rose-tinted hair and a black suit dealing with all patrons with an expert smile. Axel was glad he'd insisted on Dem shoving his beloved, ragged coat into the closet for tonight, dressing the pair of them up a little more than their usual slobbing-around attire. It wasn't that the place had any strict dress code as such, aside from the obvious, but really just that – there was a sense of _class _about it all. The music, the lighting, the _ambience, _all of it combined to create a stylish, potentially sexy atmosphere.

"…We get to eat free, right?" was the first thing Demyx, with shining eyes, managed to dredge up. Axel shot him a warning look.

"Don't take advantage, Dem."

"But Roxas _did _specify _free…"_

"Do you _want _your new boyfriend to see what a fucking scrounger you are? Do you?" Axel patted him on the back as the blond wilted slightly, facing defeat with a disappointed sigh. "Don't worry, you'll still get something nice," he reassured. "You can reserve the top-shelf stuff for when emo-boy wants to get you into bed the first time."

Demyx thought this over, then shook his head woefully. "No, because see, _that _would be taking advantage, and Zexion is so –"

"_Nice," _Axel interrupted in a dreamy imitation of Demyx in lust-mode. "And _funny. _And his _cock _is–"

"Can I – help you gentlemen? Do you have a reservation?"

They turned, Demyx blushing furiously, to find the pink-haired host in front of them, wearing a professional smile and a raised brow. He had a flower in his lapel, oozing elegance with a faint air of barely harnessed superiority. Demonstrating the mastered art of polite condescension just in that one opening line, his eyes flicked briefly to Axel's tattoos, then Demyx's hairstyle, before the smile thinned patiently. Oh, boy – and Axel would be working with him. _Fun._

"We had a table reserved for us," the redhead informed him, adding pointedly, "by Roxas." The man blinked, the other brow rising to meet the first high up on his forehead, some of the smugness leaking from his bearing to be replaced with sceptical surprise.

"Oh, indeed? Roxas authorized a table? In person? Please excuse me for a moment while I check my books…"

"Marly, leave 'em alone, they're on the house tonight." Yuffie's voice cut through the proceedings, the maître d' striding over with a harried but welcoming smile, her uniform crisp and tidy. With a handful of leather-bound menus in one arm, her other making a sweeping gesture to usher them inward, she greeted, "Hi, guys, glad you could make it. Roxas has made all the arrangements, I'll take you to your table." They left the host back at his stand, gladly turning their backs on him, Yuffie muttering out of the corner of her mouth when they'd got a little distance away, "Don't mind him, he's a power freak – that's why Roxas has got him there, he keeps the customers in line just with a single, snooty comment about how he's better than them, all without ever managing to openly insult anyone."

"Body language and expressions say more than words ever could," Axel dryly contributed, to which Yuffie replied with a wink.

"_Someone's_ gotta keep out the riff-raff." She led the way through the collection of tables, past the many contented diners, over to a two-person table in the corner of the room. Exaggerating a bow, she pulled out the first chair and prompted, _"Madam," _to Demyx, who fluttered like a schoolgirl, said, "Charmed, I'm _sure!" _and sat with his legs crossed like he was getting ready to incubate an egg. Then he suddenly stiffened, wrenched his legs apart, glanced around, and hissed, "I hope Zexion didn't see that!"

Yuffie leaned down, patted his shoulder, and whispered, "Don't worry, he's in the kitchen at the moment." The blond visibly sagged with relief, Axel watching with amusement, surmising that Dem obviously hadn't broken anything his first time in the kitchen for the fierce head waiter to have taken a shine to him. As he went to reach for the back of his own chair, the small woman suddenly appeared at his side, cutting him off and doing it for him, admonishing, "Excuse me, but there'll be none of that this evening. You are both honoured _guests _of Blade, and as such the only things you are allowed to do by yourselves are eat, drink, and maybe go to the bathroom."

"What, no help there?" Axel mocked, as she efficiently whipped out a starched cloth serviette and draped it across his knees, going around to do the same to Demyx and responding only with a sharp roll of the eyes. Then, with a flourish, she presented them with their menus, and announced, "Welcome to Blade, gentlemen. My name is Yuffie, I am the maitre d' and will be your waiter for this evening. Please enjoy a complimentary bottle of wine on the house, your choice, but be aware that Marluxia over at the host stand will be inclined towards a heart attack if he sees you drinking the Dom – he's had his eye on it instead of a Christmas bonus."

Axel snorted his opinion of what a devastation such an event would be, and together he and Dem managed to pick out something moderately priced from the wine list. Demyx was a good boy and waited until Yuffie had left to fetch it before lamenting that they hadn't seized the bull by the horns and just cleared Blade out of its black-label _everything. _"It's a nice place, though, huh?" he admitted, glancing around. "Different when there's, you know, _people _in it." He smiled over at the redhead hesitantly. "And the customers seem pretty up-market, so maybe this whole bouncing deal won't be so bad."

"I told you it'd be fine," Axel said dismissively, running a finger around the base of the empty wine glass already sitting on the tablecloth, gleaming under the soft lights. "I mean, it's going to be a pretty basic job."

"Yeah," the blond agreed heartily, before dimming a moment later. "But still, Roxas wants you here because of a _need, _right? They wouldn't be hiring you if everything was perfect all the time."

Axel's mouth twisted, a look darting across the table at his companion. "Yeah, maybe, but from what he said, it's just a matter of keeping people from sneaking free games and getting a little too loud. Nothing major, for sure, just stuff that Captain Pink over by the door can't quite manage for himself." They both glanced over to the host's stand and smirked, Yuffie returning a moment later and opening the bottle at the table with an experienced twist, pouring into their glasses as though she'd been doing so every day of her life, every motion utterly effortless. The boys were impressed, and she knew it as she bobbed up with a pleased expression in place.

"All right, gentlemen – take your time selecting from the menu, I'll be back in ten minutes, and please, enjoy your time at Blade." Leaving the bottle in an ice bucket in the middle of the table, she went elsewhere to continue her waiterly duties while the blond and redhead sipped at their beverages appreciatively and began perusing the dishes the kitchen had on offer.

With Demyx letting out the occasional, "Ooh!" on the other side of the ice bucket, wholeheartedly focused on his task, Axel took several minutes to properly inspect the place, eyes scanning the crowd slowly. He noticed the door to the pool hall was shut still, access not open yet to the public. Seven-thirty, he supposed, was still a little early for the games crowd. But when the time eventually rolled around, there would be patrons from the restaurant descending, and then a little while after that, the bottom level would also be open to the outside, allowing for the non-host-approved to make their way up if they so chose. Roxas hadn't mentioned any problems with that aspect of things, though – only that there were people heading down to the basement and not paying for it, along with a few control issues. He wondered if, also, there were perhaps some eat-and-runs going on that way – enjoy your meal, go for a game of pool, slip out the back entrance. If it was the sort of thing that was occurring to him, then surely it would have occurred to others. He made a mental note to ask Roxas later.

"Oh, my God, they have ribs here," Demyx salivated. With a smile, Axel returned his gaze to the menu, eventually deciding to trust the woman he'd met in Roxas' office, Aerith, and go with the head chef's recommendation of the night. While they waited for Yuffie to return for their orders, the two men sipped at their wine, Demyx reaching over and reading the bottle's label with a serious face, while Axel casually leaned back in his chair and continued running his stationery reconnaissance. There were a lot of people over by the bar, being served by a loud man with rough blond hair and efficiency in place of style, shots and cocktails and pints sliding all over the shining black counter. He was quick though, catering to a crowd with little effort, Axel watching from afar until a black-and-white-clad body cut off his view, a wire bread basket placed next to the wine, Yuffie lifting up her orders pad and waiting with a smile.

As she wrote their spoken orders, she darted Axel a pleasant look, asking, "Well, kid – what do you think?" She shrugged a shoulder at the restaurant. "I hear you're all set to become one of the team. You like what you see?"

Non-committal, the man drew a breath and replied, "It seems like a well set up establishment. Roxas shows a knack for knowing what he's doing, as per usual, and exploits every individual's talents to their fullest." Yuffie paused a little at his answer – it was difficult to tell if he was being genuine or ironic – but then finished writing and flipped her pad's cover back over.

"He's a smart guy, Roxas," she agreed. Then, with another smile, predicted, "Your food won't be long, gentlemen," and returned in the direction of the kitchen.

Once she'd gone, Demyx leaned forward, saying quietly, "I guess you're not feeling very forgiving just yet, huh?"

Axel toyed with his wine, rolling the damp rim along his lower lip, eyes elsewhere. "It's not a matter of forgiveness, Dem. Like I said: Roxas knows what he's doing. He's good at figuring people out, I guess. To his benefit, at least."

With a frown, he continued to survey the restaurant, the realisation slowly sinking in that yes, he _was _going to soon be part of the team, and this very place was going to be his stomping ground. He would be playing the role Roxas had selected him for – keeping the rabble under thumb, as only Axel with his physical self-assurance knew how. Last night, after everything with Reno, he hadn't remembered his ire towards the blond when they'd spoken, but being here now was bringing the disturbed feeling bubbling back up. He wasn't angry, not now that he'd got over the shock of it – he just felt disappointed, he supposed. Disappointed, because Roxas had hurt him, and didn't even understand that he'd done anything wrong. Even his brother had spotted the mistake in the equation, but Roxas himself, the one person Axel had truly thought knew him best – had missed it completely. He was grateful for the job; but at the same time, he was sorry for it. It was… what was it?

It was the sound of the guillotine between him and Roxas. That was what this job was.

The food arrived, hot and delicious, the two of them ripping through the first decent cooked meal they'd had in weeks, luxuriating in the sauces and various kinds of vegetables, gulping down the wine with the happy knowledge that neither of them had driving responsibilities. Demyx couldn't help but keep an eye out for Zexion, spotting him every now and again, but with the restaurant getting only busier as time went by, there was no way he could distract the emo-waiter, even for an instant. Axel watched him brighten and dim like a faulty Christmas bulb whenever the man ended up nearby, wondering with amusement if there wasn't some way to put him out of his misery, if only to throw them into a hidden larder somewhere together to let emo-boy finally pop the question and buoy Dem through the rest of the night.

Near the end of the wine bottle came dessert, and with dessert arrived Roxas, easily carrying three small dishes of chocolate mousse, flashing friendly smiles to the pair. He set the desserts down in front of the two men, asking, "This is what you ordered, right? I told Yuffie to come get me with dessert. There are coffees on the way, too."

"You drink a lot of coffee, huh?" Axel remarked, not yet touching the mousse, eyeing the short blond as Yuffie produced a chair from God only knew where – the restaurant was packed – and seated him. Pulling his own dish forwards, Roxas picked up the long-handled spoon, began digging and mushing the blueberries and raspberries into the chocolate like it was something to do to keep his hands busy.

"So," he started up, glancing at each of them expectantly. "How is it all? You enjoyed your meals, right? Demyx, what do you think of Blade?"

"Oh! Uh –" Looking surprised at being included, the blond briefly scratched the back of his head, then held up his wine glass and nodded cheerfully. "Everything's ship-shape and – pretty perfect! Thanks a lot for the free meal."

"We appreciate it," Axel chipped in, leaning back and picking up his own spoon, tapping it against the bowl to hear the delicate glass chime. "It's a nice place you've got here, Rox. You deserve everything that's coming to you."

"Yeah," Demyx interjected, "now we see why your apartment is so kickass."

Roxas grinned. "Great, I'm glad to hear it." He looked happier here than he had been the entire time since Axel and Demyx had arrived in town – he was getting a buzz from sitting in amongst the action instead of tucked away inside his office, seeing the pleasure and popularity and _fruits _of his enterprise, and it softened a little of the sting Axel felt whenever he looked him in the eye. Roxas was all about the business, that was all. He'd closed his eyes to the rest of the world, Axel guessed, and what didn't relate to Blade was nothing he could quite understand. He wondered if he was actually going to end up selling the place; he seemed too involved in it to be able to stomach handing it over to the highest bidder. Still, Roxas had already proven that the mind of the businessman was an unfathomable creation – Axel couldn't really rely on guessing correctly what was in his head.

As if to nail this notion in place, the blond next turned to him with clear blue eyes and suggested positively, "So, I was thinking that after this we could check out the pool hall." He continued to dig at his mousse, not noticing that the other two occupants of the table had paused slightly. "You can see the sorts of guys you'll be handling," he went on. "There's really only a couple of troublemakers, the majority of the cliental is pretty well-behaved, if a little loud at times. You can get a feel for it all."

Axel and Demyx exchanged quick looks, Axel giving an almost imperceptible shrug and shake of the head. He was here, wasn't he? He'd taken the job, agreed to it; if he'd really been that cut up about it, he could've just said no. No point in complaining about it – he might as well just throw himself into it, embrace it the best that he could. "Sure, Roxas. We'll do that."

Only now did the blond hesitate, glancing at the pair of friends, asking, "...You're not going to eat?"

Almost simultaneously, the other men stuck their spoons into the mousse and began eating, Roxas cocking a bemused brow at their behaviour. Making small conversation, they dug through their desserts, Demyx painstakingly picking out the berries and sucking the mousse off them before placing them to one side. Axel knew from experience he was saving them for last, something refreshing to finish on, but Roxas, ignorant of this, could only stare at the blond's antics and wonder. The coffee came, in the same café-style cups that had been brought into Roxas' office the day before, and the two males completed their leisurely meals with contentment. Demyx was bursting the berries between his teeth, Axel stretching his arms over his head, when Yuffie appearing to clear away their dessert bowls and empty cups. "I'll have Marly bring you the bill," she promised, disappearing with a wink and a grin.

"Regular little comedian, that woman," Axel dryly observed, to which Roxas gave a chuckle.

"I can never figure out if she's more conducive to sanity or madness. She encourages both on a regular basis." He had begun looking at the redhead with a pregnant air, like he wanted to get the tour going but didn't want to rush them out of their haze of post-eating, drowsy satisfaction. Feeling merciful, Axel adjusted his shoulders, sitting forward with his hands sliding off the table, and prompted, "You mentioned the pool hall?"

"Do we get free games of that, too?" Demyx predictably asked, to which Roxas laughed.

"Be my guest. You can come any time, Demyx, I wouldn't dream of charging you for something like that."

Looking pleased, the blond bounced up eagerly with the other two, the three of them making for the side of the restaurant, where the black, handle-less door had been propped open at eight by the host, Captain Pink sending over a simpering smile to Roxas and company as they passed, the blond waving to him briefly, saying to Axel, "I'm going to have a small counter built here for you, I've got a carpenter contracted for first thing in the morning. You'll have a cash register – it's nine dollars a game – and a stamp pad for people's hands, so they can come and go for the bar and bathroom. Ah, but, you'll also be stamping them with a smaller, coloured stamp for each drink they take – three drink maximum in the basement." He glanced over his shoulder as they began descending the wooden stairs, seeking understanding.

Axel inclined his head, hands trailing along the cold cement walls. "Gotcha. Control public drunkenness, first step to being Blade's most successful bouncer ever."

"Only bouncer ever," Demyx pointed out from the back.

"Yeah, thanks, Dem."

The walls disappeared, the slatted steps entering open air, the hall appearing suddenly to their right, buzzing with conversation, the click of balls sounding all over the place, men and women in varying sized groups and states of smart-casual enjoying themselves. At first glance, even second, there didn't seem to be any pressing need for a guard dog to keep them in place. There were, as Roxas had said, some loud ones, and others who had had a few at the bar upstairs before coming down, but generally the crowd was behaving itself.

Roxas studied his expression as he surveyed the place, before saying, "I told you; there's nothing to worry about, Blade isn't the sort of place to attract the wrong sort of people. You'll be more of a general manager than anything else."

"Yeah, but the job description says 'bouncer'." This, surprisingly, had come from Demyx, reaching the bottom of the stairs with them, giving Roxas a level look as they turned towards him. "Not 'general pool hall manager'."

Roxas' mouth moved soundlessly for several seconds, before managing, "But I wouldn't put Axel the sort of situation where he'd have to actually put his skills to use."

"You can call them 'skills' if you want," Demyx responded neutrally, before smiling at Axel and saying, "I'm going to go find us a table. It looks like we might have to wait for one, though." He disappeared into the pool-goers, Axel letting loose a faint sigh.

"…He doesn't like me much, does he?" Roxas asked flatly, watching the blond's back weave itself into the crowd.

Axel blinked, glanced over, eyebrows high as he said, "Why would you think that? Of course he likes you. He just doesn't know you; and you don't know him, either. Demyx doesn't just decide to not like people."

Folding his arms uncomfortably, Roxas frowned a little, not meeting the man's eyes. "When we were going out, all I ever wanted was for your best friend to like me – it was like the ultimate test, the Big One. But then we split up, and I didn't have to worry about it anymore."

"And you don't have to worry about it now," Axel pointed out, looking at him askance. "Because we're just friends ourselves now, and whether or not Dem likes you doesn't impact on that. But he does, anyway, so it's not an issue. He's just… protective of me."

Nodding, Roxas lifted his head, stating, "Protective because I'm asking you to do this job, as if I haven't considered the implications of it or what they mean to you?" Axel shot him a sharp glance, the blond finally demonstrating the understanding he hadn't seemed to have of the situation. Roxas looked annoyed. "Cloud called me today. He's pissed with me for offering you the job. He kept calling the two of us idiots, among other names I'd rather not have to relay." As Axel chuckled at this, he said sharply, "It's not funny, Axel. Cloud, Demyx, you – you're all acting like I've forgotten that back in England you had a problem with fighting. I feel like – I've offered a keg to an alcoholic or something, the way you're all treating me, but I wouldn't be offering it to you if I didn't think it would be okay." He sounded frustrated, Axel letting out another sigh, weary this time.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "It's not like you weren't there with me through the worst of it, but I guess that's why everyone's a little stunned by this, Rox. You, out of everyone, know best how bad it could get if I ended up in a fight with someone… but it was still your idea?" He shook his head. "No one understands, least of all me, but I need the money, like I said." Digging his hands into the pockets of his black pants, he turned away from the blond, eyes carefully scanning the crowd. "Besides, Cloud told me you were trying to find a job for me, so it's not like it was something that I just conveniently arrived to take over. You thought about it. So, like… you wondered where you could put me, and this is what sprang to mind."

"But that's just the thing!" Roxas exclaimed, gripping the elbow of his shirt earnestly. "I _thought _about it, it wasn't just an impulsive decision – don't you see that? And _you _obviously came to the same conclusion as I did, because, fuck the money, you swore never to fight again, but you still took the job."

His mouth twisting, Axel shot him a reluctant glance. "…Well, maybe." Roxas glared up at him for a short while, the two of them staring at one another with his own level of sub-thoughts and dissatisfaction. Then, some people were coming down from the restaurant, while others were trying to make their way up, and the blond and redhead had to get out of the way, hovering by the foot of the stairs as they were. On silent agreement, they began heading in the direction of Demyx on the far side of the room.

"Anyway, next time you have issues, take them up with me, don't bring my brother into it," Roxas said after a little while.

"I did. You made it pretty plain that if I had 'issues', I could feel free to reject the job. I wanted to _talk _to someone about it, not just get fed the same ultimatum over and over." Axel looked over at him, gaze daring him to contradict, the scowl on the blond showing that he could see his point.

"Okay, so maybe I was a little blunt about it," he grudgingly admitted, Axel giving a nod.

"Rox, as long as you realise the situation, I'm fine with it. If you honestly think I won't have problems here, then I'll believe you and be happy enough. It was just when you acted like it was no big deal that I was getting wound up about it."

With a grimace, the blond drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I didn't mean to upset anyone."

"Yeah, well." Axel gave him a half-smile. "Forget it. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, and us." He nodded over towards Demyx, who waved brightly as they came into view, gesturing them over to a table he'd managed to claim, three pool cues clutched messily in the one hand. "And he likes you, he just doesn't know how to act around you yet. If you really want to know him, you will."

Roxas began relaxing, the crease between his brows smoothing out. "Well, Zexion seemed happier than usual tonight, I noticed that much, so Demyx obviously has some therapeutic benefits."

Axel laughed, picked up his voice and calling as they neared, "You hear that, Dem? Roxas is saying that your new boyfriend is happier than usual tonight – I wonder why that might be?"

Demyx gaped for a moment, eyelids fluttering with equal amounts of bashful pleasure and being flustered. Then, glowing like a sunrise, he asked, "Really?" Roxas nodded affirmatively, watching the wings spring out of Dem's heels with amusement, the taller blond obviously set to spend the rest of the evening walking on air.

"See?" Axel smirked. "He sure as hell likes you now. Buy him off with Zexion stories, and he'll be eating out of the palm of your hand in no time." Roxas gave another rare grin, the sort of expression Axel had almost forgotten in his face, and for an easy hour the two of them learned a facet of 'just friends', Axel all the while struggling to hold his pool cue steady and not let it remind him of Reno.

--

At a bar across town, looking ever so slightly less formal, sat the long-haired redhead himself, making no such efforts to keep Axel out of his own thoughts. Wearing rumpled ShinRa uniforms from a half-day's work, Reno and Rude sat at the counter of Tifa's establishment with beers in hand, toasting to the weekend gone past, Reno's only complaint being that it hadn't lasted longer.

"I don't know, Reno." Tifa stood behind the bar, tipping drinks for the customers with a skill that would have had Roxas begging her to work for Blade, if he didn't already know there was no way in hell she was giving up Seventh Heaven. "From the sounds of it, any longer than you've had and you'd have been pressing your luck a little too far."

"Hah!" Reno threw back a long swallow of bitter, blue eyes glittering over the top of the glass. Slender lips forming a broad smirk, he replied, "Maybe for _you _my achievements so far seem like the end of the rainbow, but that's because you've never had the luck of the Irish on side. Me, though, I know the pot of gold is right there within reach, if _only _I had the time to reach a little further." He demonstrated, stretching out an unsteady arm and grasping at air, his current drink only the latest of many. Then, shaking his head pityingly, clicking his tongue, he tutted, "Your problem with men is that you just don't _try _hard enough, Tifa."

On his other side, Zack volunteered, "Twenty bucks says that Reno's grubby, reaching little paws get bitch-slapped away."

"As per usual?" Tifa smiled with thin eyes, flipping her hair smugly as Reno let loose some indignant noises.

"You're on, Fair." Rude slid a twenty from his wallet and slapped it onto the counter in front of Reno, the black-haired man snatching it up and running it under his nose with a luxuriating sniff.

"You like the smell of the inside of Rude's pants, huh?" Reno asked.

"Rude, what are you saying?" Tifa leaned a hip against the counter and crossing her arms as a lull in custom briefly fell. "You think Reno has a chance with _Roxas' ex-boyfriend? _They're living together, remember? And I heard from Cloud that it wasn't even a proper split, it was just that neither of them wanted to do the long-distance thing."

Reno harrumphed, scowling, "You think I can't compete with Spiky's little brother?" Three sets of identically sceptical eyes swung his way in response, Reno not knowing whether to laugh outright or allow the little tickle of annoyance to blossom. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he complained. "What am I, dirt on the bottom of Roxas' shoe? You people do _not _give me enough credit, I've said it before and I'll say it again."

"Reno." Tifa laid a sympathetic hand on the man's forearm, trying to contain her smile with twitching lips. "You and Roxas operate – _differently."_

"He, for example, has morals," Zack offered. "Integrity. Uhm, a sense of monogamy?"

"Shut up, Zack. You're drunk, you don't count."

"Drunk equals all sorts of brutal honesty, though," Zack protested. "If anything, I count _more." _

"The fact of the matter remains," Rude smoothly interjected, "that whatever happens with Roxas, Reno still got to second base."

"He sucked his finger after beating him in a game he couldn't possibly win," Tifa pointed out. "I don't know if second base counts if it's gained under duress."

"Hey, he wasn't exactly stressed out about it," Reno argued. "And you guys saw him afterwards, it's not like he kept his distance from me the rest of the night."

There was a pause. "Actually, honey, he kind of did," Tifa told him.

"But not in an _avoidance _sort of way," Reno continued without missing a beat, waving his glass in the air, stabbing his finger at her with the other hand. "It was just that he, um, uh… where am I going with this? I got to second base, damn it. And he _liked _it, he _liked _second base. He wanted to set up shop there."

"He barely knows you," Tifa said doubtfully. "It's only been a couple days since you guys met, Reno."

"Does that make me any less successful with him? _No. _That actually, it actually _increases _my chances," the redhead earnestly began theorising, "because it means there was like a, uh, a _gut-level _attraction, because if there hadn't been, I'd have had to try a lot _harder, _and he wouldn't have played the game at all, right? He'd have been all like… 'Hell no, bitch, find another hussy' or something."

"So, wait, can I ask you something?" Zack was staring at the man, swivelled around on his barstool and leaning back, blinking unevenly in an attempt to get a better look at him. "You're very… involved in this conversation, Reno. Do you _like _this guy or something?"

"Does it make you _jea-lous _if I do?" the other man promptly leered, slumping towards him. Rude carefully took hold of his messy ponytail and pulled him back. There was a collective round of eye-rolling.

"I guess we can take that to be your answer," Tifa muttered, going off to serve a new gaggle of customers coming up to the counter. Rude steadied the man, Reno shrugging him off, suddenly sulky.

"And if I _do? _I'm allowed to _like _people, aren't I? Is that _okay _with you unsupportive assholes?"

"So, wait," Zack started up again, eyes wide. "Do you _like _him like him, or just like, _like _him like a… like a, um… Like. Like, like, like."

"Shut _up, _Zack. You don't _count." _

"Relax," Rude murmured, on his other side. "Just do whatever comes naturally, Reno, don't think about it too hard."

"You just want to win some money," Reno shrewdly bitched. "I am feeling so _objectified _right now."

"Welcome to my world," Tifa dryly commented, going past with a tray of drinks.

"Yeah, well, screw you guys." Reno slammed his mug down with a bang, Tifa flicking him a warning glance as his chin thrust belligerently out from his neck. "You've pushed me too far. I'll show you, and I will show you so _hard _you won't know where your mothers were _born."_

"That, that… that means nothing, Reno." Zack blinked owlishly at him. "That was the biggest load of bullshit I've heard from you in… oh, at least a week."

"And _you _are going to lose _money," _Reno continued spitefully, "and you will _cease to count. _That is how _hard _I am going to show you."

"And where does _Axel _come into all this?" Tifa archly asked from the other end of the bar.

"I can _tell _you where he's going to _come _into all this –" The leer was back, full power, Rude stopping him with a heavy hand dropping onto the top of his head.

"Reno."

"What is it, o light of my life?"

"That's enough for now. We believe you."

"I'm going to piss all over Roxas," the redhead grumbled. "That'll show you. I'm going to… I'm… I'm going to invite Axel out for dinner." As he fumbled for his phone, Rude gently disengaged it from his hand and tucked it into his own pocket.

"Maybe when you're sober," he advised.

"Rude." Zack leaned over the counter blearily, peering sincerely up into the other man's dark shades. "You are… so nice to Reno, did you know that? You are… I'm… I want to be a bridesmaid at the wedding."

"_My _wedding," Reno interjected, "to _Axel." _

"No, to _Rude, _you're marrying _Rude, _dumbass, because he takes such good care of you. And I'm going to marry Aerith-in-the-kitchen from Blade, because she's _pretty." _

"And she can cook," Reno nodded musingly.

"And then, all I'd need is _Tifa," _Zack went on, a loud bark of laughter from the end of the bar drawing their glances momentarily sideways, "and then I'll have like, the full gamut. The full gamut? The – the whole gamut? I'll have a gamut, because she can beer me, and Aerith can feed me, and then they can like, have like, pillow fights in front of me."

There was a pause as the three men stopped to envision this. Tifa firmly dislodged the pictures from their heads with a firm smack to each, and said, "That's enough alcohol for you _boys_. Go home."

"Aerith is nicer," Reno whispered. "Stick with Aerith." He got another smack from the sharp-eared woman, and they were sent on their way.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Holy mow, eh wot. It's been waaaay longer than projected to get this chapter done 0__0;; A thousand and two apologies, guys; between school and taking care of my sister lately, I've been neglecting the universe and its dog in terms of fanfiction and review responses, but I'm clambering back up onto the bandwagon with all limbs intact and will be much better behaved in future, I promise :) Ahh, mini Rinoa just fell off my desk! *picks her back up* Attempted suicide because Cloud is with Leon… how sad… Hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please be patient with me while I attempt to recapture the whole mood of this story, eheh…

---

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning, Axel and Demyx rose early, standing in their boxers in the cold kitchen and wolfing down bowls of cereal while leafing through the increasingly worn real estate magazine that Roxas had given them. Through a mouthful, dripping milk, Axel mumbled, "We can find another magazine at one of the realtors'." Demyx nodded, shoulder pressed against him, eyes wide as they flipped past page after page of places _way _out of their price range. "A knife country one," Axel added.

"Does that mean _we_ get to have knives?" Demyx wondered.

Axel ruffled his hair, drawing a whine of irritation from the blond. "Stick to the butter knives, Dem, their crimped edges are scary enough in your hands."

"…Does Roxas really think of it as 'knife country'?" came the next question dubiously, as he licked his thumb and turned another page. Axel lifted a bare shoulder.

"We could always get a dog. Or, you know, a budgie or something. Set it loose on all the psychos, watch them get bird-pooped to death."

"If we're going with bird poop, we're gonna need a seagull."

"And what, keep it in the bathtub?" Axel snorted, before shooting a sly look sideways. "Well, you know you could always just go and camp out on emo-darling's doorstep. Heh, you could be _his _dog, maybe."

"Oh, I wouldn't talk, Axel." Demyx sucked thoughtfully on his spoon. "You were putting out some serious 'bitch' vibes last night, with how fast you folded to Roxas' pretty smiles."

Axel gaped for a moment, then rolled up the magazine and whipped it across the blond's head, another, louder whine coming out of Demyx, hands leaping up to shield his poor, massacred hair. "Would you shut up?!" Axel whacked him again, across the forearm this time. "I wasn't being his _bitch, _I was seeing his _point of view, _you fucking queer!" He slapped it against the blond's exposed stomach, eliciting a pained yelp. "I was trying!" _Whack! _"To be!" _Smack! _"Mature about it!"

"Not that you're _sensitive _about itor anything," Demyx gasped, half laughing as he leapt out of reach and scuttled for the doorway. He paused, inspecting his abused flesh – so much of it bare, unfortunately, red welts were popping up all over the place – and pouted. "Jesus, Axel, learn to take a joke."

"Roxas jokes –" Axel pointed the magazine at him meaningfully. "– are so off limits." He gestured up and down to the blond's body, saying, "Go get dressed, we need a good early start. There's an apartment out there with our names on it."

Grumbling, Demyx turned and trailed away. "…Call _me_ a fucking queer, _you're_ the fucking queer…" His parting shot was to yell back, from halfway across the sitting room, _"And you need to get dressed, too, so there!" _

"Maturity? What _is_ that?" Axel griped to himself, unrolling the magazine and smoothing it back onto the counter. He'd been through it backwards and forwards, and to satisfy Roxas had promised last night to go check out the cheaper ones on the list – but with absolutely no real intention of leasing them, unless a miracle occurred via bank error, or it turned out a vicious murder had taken place in one of them, which in turn would make it void anyway since Dem would be up all night hearing ghosts. He already had a sort of place in mind, as an ideal – basically, all he and Demyx needed was a carbon copy of their old duplex back in their home town. They really weren't fussy, they'd slept in all sorts of places as kids, before Axel had been shipped off to the school in England. All they really needed was a place to sleep, eat, and catch various connecting busses from – that was it. Roxas might have higher aspirations in living arrangements, but then, his apartment was fantastic and he was barely in it. What was the point of that? Comfort and a minimum of bathroom scum were about all the pre-requisites the pair desired, and so comfort and a minimum of bathroom scum they would have.

While Demyx was in the shower, misting up the mirror to inevitably draw faces on with his index finger, Axel yanked on his clothes and made a call to the realtor office on the magazine, announcing their arrival in advance so there'd be someone to show them around. The woman on the phone had sounded positive at first, dimming slightly when he mentioned their spending ability, but then bouncing right back with a promise of several places which were 'almost definitely affordable for their budget'. Axel smelled a rat, but nevertheless, thirty minutes later the blond and redhead turned up at her office with walking shoes on. The morning was spent driving from place to place, inspecting the various empty apartments with the background chatter of 'two working incomes' and 'budget realignment' and especially 'current market demand' working hard to silver-tongue them into a lease that would cripple them.

"Roxas' idea of affordable is scary," Demyx muttered at one point when Real Estate Barbie was out of earshot, Axel giving a subtle, grimacing nod of agreement as they stood in the cramped kitchenette of a two-by-four that was both overpriced for what it was and utterly wasted on two people. "You could share it with friends!" was the woman's chirping conviction on the latter issue.

"Ma'am, we have no friends," Demyx offered. "We're desperate loners with an affinity for guns and video games."

While the woman faltered and said, "…Oh…" Axel was distracted by the buzz of his phone in one pocket. Excusing himself with a raised finger, he stepped into the next room, arched an eyebrow at the number on the call display, then cautiously answered, "Hello?"

--

Reno had, for the first time in weeks, actually woken up early for a change. Well, eleven-thirty was early in his estimation, anyway. Maybe there were people in the world who would think that was the rising hour of the proverbial slacker, especially on a Monday morning, but Reno maintained that those people were Absolutely No Fun. And judgemental, too, the bastards. He was a night-shift man at heart, and this meant he was deserving of his late sleep-ins. Currently, by the clock, he'd only had about… well, okay, nine or so hours sleep. But he'd needed it, he'd definitely needed it, and now he was up and full of bleary-eyed vigour, determination, and just a _smidgeon _of leftover drunkenness. Mostly sober was sober enough in anyone's books.

Elsewhere in the apartment, Rude was still sleeping, and Reno was gifted with the rare sensation of feeling smug and superior to the other man, like he was actually _doing _something with his life in direct contrast to that lazy, lazy cretin who remained in bed, letting the day pass him by. Of course, Reno had his reasons for being awake prematurely, this wasn't a new leaf being turned in the life and diet regime – God forbid such things ever occurring, it was entirely too Tseng-like for consideration. No, rather, it was the act of a man deeply, irrevocably steeped in the intensifying stages of lust. He'd been _dreaming _about Axel, all sorts of naughty and delicious things that just didn't serve him well in the long run. Something had to be done about this, before he ended up spending his days doing nothing but washing his sheets at the Laundromat down the road. Was he, or was he not, a _man? _And was he, or was he not, _Reno? _Others may sneer and poke fun and laugh, but they were just jealous because he was such a goddamn stud. He had blocked more cell phone numbers of exes than _Zack _had ever even seen in his entire phone-holding _life. _

Not to mention Roxas! That goodie-two-shoes couldn't hold a candle to Reno's stud-ishness, and he fully intended to coax Axel around to believing the very same. Huh, how dare those terrible people posing as friends suggest he couldn't win the object of his affections! It was all too close to slander for words.

Thus, his new resolution which had him out of bed earlier than otherwise predicted. Rude had saved him from making a drunken phone call in those heady wee hours of the morning, but nothing could prevent him from pursuing his goal now that he had slept the majority of it off and had a chance to really steam over the insinuations that he was somehow beneath notice for a man with Axel's tastes. Had he, or had he _not, _sucked the guy's finger off? He counted it a victory, even if the others raised sceptical brows about it. He knew he was in with a hell of a chance, and he intended to increase those chances _exponentially _over the coming days and, yea, even weeks. That would show the fuckers. If Axel hadn't been at least partially attracted to Reno, he wouldn't have allowed it to happen any more than Reno would consider letting _Rude_ do such things to his own hand. Good God, the thought alone was enough to want to send him retching towards the toilet bowl. Disturbing stuff.

First, though, Reno really had to get this weird taste out of his mouth. What was that, sawdust? Had he been eating sawdust again? Because Rude had promised never to let him do it after that last time, and if he'd gone back on that then someone was going to be in a _lot _of trouble.

With the curtains all having been drawn the night before out of a sense of mercy for their morning-selves, the apartment was dim and cool, Reno shuffling out of his bedroom in his boxers and making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. To his relief, no flecks of sawdust came out when he spat, though it left him confused as to how the flavour had come into his mouth in the first place. Maybe it was better to just not think too hard about it. Some things were better left forgotten.

His next stop was the kitchen, for some hair of the dog followed by a much-needed hit of H2O, the man very accustomed to this routine, an automatic occurrence whenever the alcoholic haze from the previous night fogged a little too thickly. They probably shouldn't have kept drinking after leaving Tifa's, but damn it, the woman inspired it. Plus, Reno hadn't ranted nearly enough on the subject of Axel when she'd kicked them out, and so Rude had kindly agreed to buy a leftover newspaper and sit with him for an extra hour in the park, getting the redhead moving only when a police cruiser swung past at a slow crawl. Huh, maybe Zack had been right about Rude. They should marry, so that Reno had someone legally obliged to take care of him while he had an exciting string of affairs with other people. He wondered briefly how Axel felt about open marriages, before his mind suddenly recalled the 'you may kiss the bride' part of such ceremonies, and forcefully ejected the possibility before his ears could bleed at the mental image.

Fighting back a shudder, he returned to the bathroom, climbed into the shower, remembering only at the last moment to kick off his boxers. The hot water was a godsend, dredging him up out of the worst of his hangover and shaking him off, hair dampening and lengthening, reaching down his chest. It was the sort of blissful moment he wished he could prolong, but in the end, his resolve kicked him out to finally make that goddamn phone call.

Returning to his room only to pull on some jeans and dry off a little, he grabbed his phone, carried it out to the sitting room, and found the number he'd scored off the little blond friend, by whom he _didn't _mean _Roxas, _that difficult creature full of wiles. Readying to launch into full charm mode, Reno listened to one, two, three long rings, before Axel's careful voice came swimming along the airwaves. Unfortunately, somewhere between his brain and mouth, 'charm' morphed into 'lecherousness', and he ended up leering, "Well, hel_lo, _fancy meeting a girl like you in a place like _this."_ Oh, well. It was a relationship based on molestation, he might as well take it to the full extent and make it verbal as well.

There was a pause from the other end, before Axel hesitantly replied, "Hi, Reno. I'd forgotten you had my number."

Somewhere in the background, Reno heard, _"The perv? Is it the perv? Tell him you want your chastity back." _He grinned abruptly, feeling distinctly cat-with-cream-like. So, Axel had been telling tales, had he? Hmm, he liked that, he definitely liked that. The thought of the man recounting their _intimate _little episode made it all seem so much more real, rather than something he'd been made to feel he'd all but made up to sound big in front of his so-called friends.

"Just for the record," he pointed out with satisfaction, "I don't offer chastity."

"Oh, don't worry," came the dry response. "I know that much about you."

"Oh, I'd say you know quite a bit about me by now," the redhead musingly responded, stroking his chin with one finger, smirking up at the ceiling. "So, how's the man attached to my favourite finger doing today?"

There was a slightly strained cough in Reno's ear, an embarrassed sound. "Uh, well, you know. I'm good."

"Well, I never had any doubt of _that," _the man replied smugly. "But I'm glad to hear it."

Axel gave another cough. "Right. So. What about you? Anything the matter?"

"The matter? No, nothing's the _matter, _I simply felt the urge to dial you up, make some conversation, invite you to dinner…"

"Uhh, dinner?" He was sounding distracted, a woman's voice suddenly appearing muffled behind him, Reno praying only in that moment that Axel hadn't had some weird threesome without him. "I'm a little busy right now, Reno… Dem and me are house-hunting…"

"Ah." Well, that explained the woman, in a sadly un-thrilling sort of way. "That doesn't stop you giving me a sweet 'yes' to dinner, though," he pointed out, swinging his legs up onto the couch, settling his back against the arm and crossing an ankle over one knee to start picking at a loose toenail. Before the redhead could reply, he asked, "So, how's that going for you, anyway? The house-hunting?"

There was a hesitation on the other end, Axel saying with sudden non-commitment, "Oh, you know, it is what it is," alerting Reno to the fact that he was within earshot of whoever was showing them around, his mouth curling up at one side with a burst of amused affection for the apparent attempt at not blurting what a fucking waste of time it all was. How _cute, _the man had some sensitivity, perhaps even enough to make up for Reno's complete lack thereof. "Fucking waste of time, huh?"

Axel chuckled abruptly, caught off guard by the sound of it, not expecting such a raw statement of truth. "Yeah, well, you could say that." He lowered his voice, Reno feeling a little tingle at the depth of it as he muttered, "Demyx is halfway to convincing her we're a couple of serial rapists. He doesn't like her much, she keeps trying to screw us over."

Reno let loose a bark of laughter. "So he's not so bad, after all! And here I thought you were living with some kind of pure Snow White character." Axel joined in, a _very _pleasant sound as far as Reno was concerned, the man waiting for a lull before stating, "So – dinner. Now, Axel, what _is _it going to take to convince you?"

The other redhead gave a reluctant little laugh. "Reno…"

"Flowers? Champagne? Barry White in person?" Across the apartment, Rude's bedroom door opened, the large man making towards the bathroom with a towel and clothing, shooting an astounded look over at Reno. The redhead waved at him impatiently, shooing him off. The last thing he needed right now was a distraction, he could sense the fish nearly on the hook, these final moments were _crucial _to his success. "I can procure… at least two out of three. Or none, if none is what you prefer, what with you _not _being a woman, although I don't know, maybe you like getting flowers…"

Rude rolled his eyes, continued on to the bathroom, Reno flipping him off aggressively. Again, in his ear, Axel said, "Reno…"

"Yes?" the man answered quickly, following up with, "Do I get a yes? Do you make me a happy, happy man and agree to let me wine and dine you? Strictly as friends, of course," he clarified, without the slightest hint of sincerity.

"Oh, naturally," Axel mocked, sounding sensibly less than convinced. But then he sighed, and Reno could have cheered from the sweet defeat in that one little exhalation. "…I really need to get going, Demyx is starting to freak the realtor out… Okay, Reno. Okay, dinner. When?"

"Tonight?" Reno suggested promptly, with hope. Axel was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Actually, yeah, that's okay. Demyx is suffering withdrawals from the emo-waiter, so they're going off somewhere tonight, and Roxas is never around anyways…" Reno frowned at the mention of Roxas, wishing it was less a case of 'Roxas is never around anyways' and more like 'Fuck Roxas, and fuck me, come to think of it'. But, in the end, beggars couldn't be choosers… and really, he quite liked the thought of begging with Axel. "Do you know where Roxas lives? I'm staying with him."

"Yeah, I'd heard, and yeah, I do."

"Okay, well…" Axel hesitated one last time, then went on, "Come get me at eight. I don't know the area well enough to meet you anywhere yet, so you'll have to come to me."

Reno bit down on the lewd response that itched to crawl out of his throat, instead saying, "Sure thing, boss. I've got no issues with that, I'll pick you up at eight, then." He winked, despite the other man's inability to see him, and was unable to stop himself from adding, complete with leer, "You've made the right choice, Axel."

Axel coughed. "Yeah. Right. Uh, bye for now, then."

"Indeed – I'll see you later tonight. Good luck with the realtor," Reno smirked, "and have a _fabulous _day." Axel rang off, Reno shutting off the call with a bright expression, a grin spreading slowly across his face. Ohhhh, but he loved being right. Axel was going to be _devoured _by him, and would love every single minute of it – with God as his witness, Reno would _personally _see to it.

Today was indeed a _most_ wonderful day.

--

Today had been… far from ideal, by either Axel or Demyx's standards. Like Reno had so succinctly put, it had been a fucking waste of time, and now, by mid-afternoon, spirits were low. It wasn't that they'd necessarily been expecting to find a place straight away, but they'd at least figured they'd have a few _options _on the horizon, rather than this sinking feeling that they were going to end up squatting in cardboard boxes on the edge of the highway. "Thank goodness for Roxas," had been Demyx's weak remark as Real Estate Barbie drove away, with which Axel had to gloomily agree. Yep, they had a place to go to, all on account of Axel's ex-boyfriend being kind enough and generous enough to extend his hospitality… and that just made this whole 'going out with Reno' thing feel even more weird.

How many times, since they'd hung up, had Axel been tempted to grab his phone again and cancel the dinner? He'd lost count a couple hours back, but Demyx was forever reading his expression perfectly and warning, "Axel – don't you dare."

"You know," Axel grumbled, as they began walking down the pavement towards Roxas' apartment, "you're supposed to be the voice of reason in all this, not the devil's advocate."

"And you're meant to not be an old man about this," Demyx replied patiently, hands in pockets as they meandered slowly along. "Take a chance on someone you happen to be attracted to, Axel, even if it _is _that Reno guy. It's what I did, and I'm happy enough."

"Yeah, because Zexion's _really _had a chance to show his character after one date," the redhead sarcastically responded, drawing a scowl from the other.

"Oh, hush. What's it gonna hurt, is all I'm saying. You're acting like some virginal little princess expecting to get jumped in an alleyway. To be honest, you're way too tense these days anyway – a bit of alley-jumping might do you some good."

Axel couldn't help but laugh, reaching out and cuffing the blond affectionately across the head. "You're such a dork, Dem. Fine. I won't cancel the stupid dinner, but I _refuse _to call it a date. It's…" He groped for words, chin lifting in the cooling air. "It's a…"

"Dinner?" Demyx suggested.

"It's a dinner between casual acquaintances," the redhead triumphantly summed up.

"Yeah. The whole thing smacks of fuck-buddies, huh? _Ow, _that was my _leg." _Axel aimed a second kick at him, the blond skipping nimbly over his foot and bolting for the apartment building up ahead. By the time Axel caught up, the doorman was already waiting with the door open, sending him a polite nod as he entered and met with an embarrassed-looking Demyx. "I feel bad," he whispered, clutching Axel's sleeve as they made their way to the elevator. "I left handprints all over the glass door… He pulled out a bottle of Windex and everything…"

Axel nodded sagely. "Didn't I tell you you're a dork? This is what happens when you act like a douche towards your best friend. The moral of the story is, stop being a dick to Axel, or life will punish you."

The hours passed restlessly. Zexion had called the night before, a short while after they'd got back to the apartment, and proposed tonight's date with Demyx much to the blond's self-wetting excitement, and while the prospect of being by himself hadn't thrilled him, Axel had halfway been looking forward to an evening of silence. Now, that was all thrown into disarray, damn it. While Demyx hurried to and fro getting ready two hours early for his big date, Axel slouched in the easy chair and scowled.

"Get ready, get ready," Demyx would urge him impatiently each time he fluttered past, to which Axel would firmly give him the finger. Reno had specified 'as friends', but that didn't mean he _trusted _the perv. His pinkie, and mind, would never be the same, never mind the little tingles that prickled beneath his skin, threatening to make him shiver whenever he called the experience to mind. What exactly was it about Reno that so repelled him, he wondered? Because there was a definite repelling going on here; there was no other way to explain Axel's reluctance. The guy was fun, but there was that _sleazy _quality that Roxas had described… That was definitely a factor in it all. And not just because it had been Roxas who had said it, he was sure. Then there was the fact that Reno was obviously pursuing him. _Nobody _had a high opinion of Reno, not even his _friends, _and that spoke volumes to Axel on what he had to expect from the redhead. Being targeted by the resident floozy wasn't exactly something Axel could count as a personal victory. Thus: he would use this dinner as an opportunity to make things very clear. The pool had been teasing; the finger thing had been… hot and disturbing in its own little way… but now it was time to lay down the law, and cut this at the bud. _Friends – _Reno would be very certain of it by the end of the night, _just friends. _

"Axel, for God's sake, stop sitting there looking like you're getting a hernia and put some damn clothes on."

"I'm wearing clothes," the redhead sulkily replied. "And they're staying on, too."

"Prude," Dem accused, before whacking him over the head, leaving behind a waft of cologne. "Have your shower, get dressed, and then you can continue pouting until Reno gets here." When Axel made no move to comply, he stepped in front of the man, hands on hips, looking fierce. "I'm leaving in _five minutes, _Axel, and I can't go happily if I think you're gonna just… be like this!" Stabbing a finger into Axel's tattooed face, he went on, _"You're _the one who agreed to it, _you're _the one who's enabled it all so far, so stop being such a fucking pussy and _go have your shower. _I'm not going until you're dressed, and if that means me and Zexy sucking face on Roxas' sofa, then _so be it." _

Axel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, reaching over to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Shit. You are… such a…" Shaking his head, he couldn't even finish the sentence, instead pushing himself heavily to his feet. "I don't even know where we're going. Do I dress up, or down?"

The blond thought for a moment. "Well… it's Reno, so he's obviously classless, and he's got that security guard salary, so… down. Definitely down." He blinked as a strong finger flicked into his forehead.

"Yeah, I guess not _everyone _can be a Prince Charming emo-waiter," Axel sniped, trailing past him and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Owww," Demyx whined, rubbing his brow. "You are so _abusive _when you're dating perverts."

Axel didn't deign to respond, and by the time he'd showered, shaved, and left the bathroom, Demyx was gone. Obviously, getting Axel into motion was more than enough to satisfy him and allow him to trip off on his date with Mister Perfect. In the bedroom, where they'd dragged their cases to keep from cluttering up Roxas' stark apartment, Axel picked out a compromise outfit of half-up, half-down – jeans with a nice shirt ought to suffice. Not that he was putting any real thought into any of this; he didn't need to, it was _Reno. _Dressing to impress was not an issue here.

From here on, the waiting game resumed, Axel watching the numbers on his watch tick ever closer towards eight. Not that he was _nervous _at all, he just hated all this sitting around, without even Demyx's quaint idiocies to distract him. Here he was, supposed to be working up an appetite, and instead his stomach was churning. Oddly, his pinkie was also tingling. Stupid finger.

Eventually, it happened: the phone rang, bringing him jolting out of his chair, the doorman announcing the presence of a visitor to him. Grimly, Axel hung up, grabbed his coat and keys, and headed for the door. He and Dem had decided between them that Axel would definitely be the first one back, and so the blond had entrusted his ability to return to the apartment to him, with a dubious comment on hoping that Axel didn't end up seduced and Demyx locked out of the place until morning. Axel's biting reply that he could always just get Zexion to share a bed with him had been met brightly. Dem was falling _hard. _

Axel… much less so. Upon seeing Reno waiting for him in the lobby, he experienced less a soaring of the heart and more a swooping of the stomach. Noticing his reaction, Reno quirked a brow, Axel wishing he looked a little less attractive when he did such things. If only Reno could've been _ugly, _it would have been so much easier to dismiss him. One thing he had to admit to, whether he wanted to or not, was that Reno oozed sex appeal, and it just – it made ignoring him _so _much more difficult than it needed to be.

"Well, if it isn't the daisy of my heart," the redhead greeted him with amusement, evidently not put off by the lacking enthusiasm. "Looking delightful as always, Axel."

"Yeah. Hi." He sent a tight smile to the doorman, who nodded back, ushering them out respectfully. They stepped into the night, Axel taking a quick moment to look Reno up and down, the man wearing a similar, slightly flamboyant look to what he'd had on when they'd first met at Blade. Yep – way too attractive. This was not a good thing, not when Axel had a little voice in the back of his head suddenly nodding wisely and seeing how he could have ended up like he had the other night at Tifa's.

"The chariot's around the corner." There was a smirk in Reno's voice, a knowing in his pale eyes that looked a lot more smug than discouraged by his reception so far. "Can you believe that this _entire _street is paid parking? What're you doing here, man? This area's so upper-crust I'm getting scales just breathing the air." As Axel smiled thinly, distractedly, Reno continued to ramble as they began walking, "Roxas needs to downscale hardcore; this is the sort of place that that pink-haired fruit that works for him aspires towards, y'know?"

Axel lifted his shoulders in a stiff shrug, feeling the need to defend his ex's right to owning whichever apartment he chose and arguing, "Yeah, well… Roxas is doing really well for himself. He can afford it, so why not?"

Reno made a face, the notion evidently not suiting him any better than it had Axel. "Sure, but, not _everything _has to match your budget. I mean, comfort's gotta come into it, too, right? And if I won the Lottery tomorrow, phew, I'd get a nice house, like a _house, _with a gigantic backyard and a pool, and then just keep enough aside for if and when people accidentally gouge holes in the walls during the kickass parties me and Rude would throw."

Axel smiled a little at this. "Rude? You wouldn't get him his own place?"

Reno hummed thoughtfully. "Oh, maybe an outside toilet to stand up in way, waaay out the back? Otherwise, no – he's the only thing that stands between me and insolvency from too much liquor and porn. Me with a fortune, there'd just be a lot more magazines to hide when my mom came visiting."

Now, Axel couldn't help but laugh, because what else did you _do _when someone came out with something like that? Reno was just so unbelievably vocal about _everything, _including the shit you didn't even want to _know _about. You sure as hell didn't have to wonder where you stood with a guy like that, because he'd tell you five times to your face, with an increased level of sarcasm for every repetition. Whatever sleaze the guy might have, however much he'd earned the title of 'the perv', there was just something so goddamn _charming _about him, and it was frustrating the hell out of Axel. He really didn't _want _to be charmed, yet here he was, walking side by side with Reno, with the tension leaking reluctantly out of his bearing a little more every time the man opened his mouth.

Looking pleased with himself, Reno's step acquired a hint of spring, his ponytail flipping around as he twisted on the spot and began walking backwards, hands in pockets, so that he could maintain eye contact as he said, "So, I figured we could kick-start this little tour off with a visit to my favourite beer-garden, and head elsewhere from there; how does that sound to you?"

Axel echoed dubiously, "Tour?"

Reno snorted. "Of _course _it's a tour – this is your first time officially out on the town, right? I have to show you _around, _or it's no fun! You've gotta _acquaint _yourself with Radiant Garden, especially if you're trying to find your own place; how did that end up, by the way?"

They turned the corner, a sudden wind springing up that had previously been blocked off by the row of buildings, ruffling their hair and clothing, Axel having to squint a little against it as they headed for a car he recognised from the other night at Tifa's. Grimacing a little, he said, "Not so great, but, you know, it's early days yet."

Reno let out a thoughtful noise. "You know," he said, twisting back around now as they went to cross the road, pulling a set of keys out of one pocket, "I was thinking today, and I actually know a guy who could help out with that, if you're interested."

Axel glanced over, cautiously curious. "Yeah? What could he do?"

"Well, _she's_ less a guy than a girl, but she makes you think that celibacy is a fucking _great _idea after an hour in her company." The way he said it, he obviously meant it – whoever he was talking about, Axel could be pretty sure she wasn't going to turn out to be an ex-girlfriend, not that that would have surprised him, if it had. "But she's, uh, she's got some connections, I guess you could say," the man continued musingly. "She knows all the places that are on the market before the real estate places even do, so she could fix you up _real _fast. If you want, I can ask her?"

They stopped at the car, Reno unlocking the driver's seat and climbing in while Axel went around to the other side, in time to see the redhead leaning across to yank up the lock on his door, allowing him entry. Axel spent the few solitary seconds running the proposition through his mind, trying to find the numerous ways in which Reno would require 'payment' for his services; however, the way he'd asked hadn't seemed to hold a whole heap of smutty depth. He'd appeared, for a brief moment, to be holding an actual adult conversation with the man, and if he took it at face value, then Reno had just offered to be nice and help him with something. That whole 'connections' thing sounded a little weird and mafia-drenched, but if Reno could actually set him and Dem up with someone who could make this happen faster, get them out of Roxas' hair quicker than expected…?

"So, you wouldn't mind?" Axel asked hesitantly, as he climbed in and shut the door.

"Of course not." Reno winked over at him. "We're doing this _as friends _tonight, right? So let me be _friendly _to you, and do you a favour." Holding up his hands as if having read Axel's thoughts, he added, "No strings attached, I swear." Damn it, he'd stolen all of Axel's lines – from the 'strings attached' all the way back to 'just friends'. _He _was supposed to be the one ascertaining all of this, he hadn't actually expected Reno to be anything less than a total pervert one hundred percent of the time. For a moment, Axel paused to sigh, wondering if, as Demyx had suggested, he was just taking this all a little too seriously. In the end, it was his own choice if anything happened with Reno, and if that choice was _no, _then a little bit of harmless flirting from the other man wasn't exactly going to result in –

He was yanked from his thoughts by a tug on one of his spikes of red hair, face turning sideways to find himself almost nose to nose with the object of his ruminations. Reno had managed to get awfully close, awfully quickly, and all of a sudden, Axel didn't quite know what his thoughts had been. He swallowed a little as Reno parted his lips, then blinked as the man said, "You're a lot more introspective than I first assumed, Axel. Somehow, I get the feeling there's a lot more fire to you than you're exhibiting…" Axel's pulse sped up against his will, his little finger tingling like _crazy, _but then an instant later, Reno was back on his side of the car, the arm that had curled around the headrest of Axel's seat unwinding and returning to grip the steering wheel as he started the engine with a rumble. Shooting over a quick grin, Reno added, "I'll look forward to when you finally loosen up, then, shall I? Friend?"

Axel gave an agitated cough, trying to convince himself that _no, _he was _not _blushing slightly. He really didn't _do _that sort of thing. Friend. Right. _Friends. _He could do this… he could _totally _do this, and he did _not _just react to Reno's proximity, and he was _not _enjoying the man's scent and wondering if that spicy hint was aftershave or natural; no, he was _not. _He especially wasn't finding the curve of Reno's smirking lips attractive at all, it was _annoying, _not attractive, definitely _annoying. _Because Axel wasn't on the market for anything right now; he was living with his ex-boyfriend, starting a new job, and trying to find a new home, and that did _not _leave time or energy for anything else.

No, it did _not. _

God damn it; he was going to have to dismember that traitorous pinkie.


End file.
